My old home in Blackhawk, South Dakota was haunted by at least three ghosts; a little girl who sings at night, a little old man who sits at my fireplace and an unseen spirit that was in my old room. Pretty crazy, huh?
The unseen spirit in my bedroom I had become good friends with. I called him Lewis, and he responded quite well to the name too! All of my friends thought I was making everything up until I said "Lewis, please enter my room" soon enough, everything went cold and my lights flickered. My friends were shaking with fear and I told them to be unafraid. Now when they stayed the night, oh boy then things picked up! This scared them to the point of leaving the sleepover!
At about midnight we walked out to get some food from the kitchen, and, lo and behold, there was the little old man, sitting on the fireplace! My friend Matt approached the old man and he disappeared. Everyone was dumbfounded and awestruck at the sight of him. We returned to the bedroom and watched some TV. I had felt Lewis in the room so we felt pretty cool about him through the rest of the night. This is the reason why they left; at midnight I began to hear the windy voice of the little girl singing, and I told my friends to listen closely. Then the singing became louder, and louder until we could hear her voice at the doorway. Then the doorknob started to jiggle wildly, Matt had opened the window and jumped out along with my other two friends, they ran away to their houses! And that’s when everything stopped. The ghosts are still around today, believe me! I still want to return home to South Dakota so I can visit Lewis again.
My family has always believed in paranormal activity, spirits, ghosts, etc. Every child in our family has always been susceptible as well to seeing these things and I was no exception. I have a few parts to this story and they include my brother as well.
My family moved A LOT. Our first school was here in SC, Blue Ridge area. I was 5 or 6 and my brother was 4 or 5. We were latch key kids from the start, especially that young because my parents would be home an hour after we got home, so it was not that big of a deal. However, my brother used to play with a man that was in our house. He didn't think anything strange of it and my mom would hear him talking to him, playing with him. Knowing spirits as she did, she thought nothing of it because it didn't seem to be harming him in any way. However, one day my mom came home (and I really don't remember where I was) but she went to check on my brother and lo and behold, he was locked into a closet, sitting on the floor. He didn't appear to be upset and my mom asked him why he was sitting in the closet. He told her that the man put him there and told him to stay. Needless to say, my brother never got to play with that man again and my mom asked the spirit to leave.
Time went on and we kids were always so sensitive that if we went to someone's home and felt weird, we would not stay very long or go quiet and not say anything. Of course, angry, sad feelings are easiest to feel and as a child, you have no idea what is going on. I felt those feelings so many times, it became normal. However, nothing can beat the overwhelming feeling of dread that I felt in our house in upstate SC. It starts with something I saw. I was always an avid reader and was reading in our living room with the front door open and it was sunny outside. I glanced up and literally saw a hand come through the air and slam down on the glass table my parents had. However, there was no sound and I was terrified. I told my mom and dad and she told me not to worry about it if nothing else happened. But then something did. I was alone at the house one night when I was around 11 or 12, waiting for my parents to get home. I was looking for a book to read when all of sudden the air around me became charged. Then I felt as if someone were watching me. I was so scared that I didn't want to turn around and I knew that if I did there would be a man sitting or standing close to me. I don't know why I thought it was a man but the feeling was only in the living room. I whirled around real fast, grabbed the phone and ran into the kitchen. I called my dad and asked him if he was thinking about the house or anything like that because, who knows, he might have been projecting. He said no and asked my mom and she replied negatively as well. My dad, who doesn't believe in spirits, had me go across to our next door neighbor’s house until they got home just in case there was actually someone in the house.
Needless to say, no one was there and they couldn't explain why I felt that way. I wouldn't stay by myself after that point for at least a month.
In that same house, there were a pair of glowing eyes that were only three feet off the ground in my room that would glow brightly every night. They would sometimes move to one side of my television to the other. My parents checked for glow in the dark paint, replaced the paneling, placed objects in front of it and every night the eyes would appear. Eventually, they left and I never saw them again.
Finally, in that same house, there was a childish spirit in that same bathroom that used to blow on the back of whoever was standing or sitting in the bathroom too long. Usually, there would be some soft giggle and it would go away. It happened so many times that even my grandma was used to it when she came to visit and tried to communicate but the spirit only wanted to play.
We finally moved from that house but it was always somewhat creepy and weird to me. As we moved to other houses, I would always "feel" them out because my mom knew that we were so sensitive. Our last house that we all lived in together had some serious creepiness going on but being older, I didn't think about it. But I knew something was off about it but as a college student, I had more important things on my mind.
So, what's your ghost story? I, personally, seem to have a ghost history.
I grew up in Colorado Springs, CO. Our house was a new construction, and we were the first occupants, moving in when I was 6 years old. All was normal until my great-aunt, who had lived in Georgia (US) passed away when I was seven.
I went with my mom to Georgia to handle the funeral and sale of my great-aunt's home and belongings. There were many antiques of some value, and my mom commissioned a few to be shipped back to our home, including a wooden rocking chair that had been with our family for many years.
Seriously, this chair was out of a horror movie. It was hand-carved, with scary faces on the hand rests and intricate, odd Gothic-style designs carved in to the legs and headboard. My brother and I hated the chair and the dog growled at it, but my mom thought it was very prestigious and placed it in the guest room in our furnished basement. After that, things were never the same in our house.
Soon after the arrival of The Chair, the basement became cold, and the dog refused to go down there. Indeed, my brother and I didn't like to play there anymore, and the chair seemed to rock on its own. However, the truly scary thing first happened about two months after The Chair's arrival, and this happened to me.
I was sleeping in my room on the second floor when I awoke in the middle of the night, hearing footsteps on the stairs. Figuring this was my parents going to bed, I didn't worry, or open my eyes. Then my room got cold and I heard the footsteps, very softly, come in to my bedroom. I got very scared, and pretended to be asleep - that was when I felt the hand on my hip. I turned and looked, hoping to see my mom's hand... but that's not what I saw. Instead, resting on my hip, was a large, white, misty hand, attached to a white, misty arm, attached to a... well, at that point I screamed and pulled the covers over my head. My mom came running, and nothing was there when she arrived (till the day she passed, my mom thought I was a little crazy because of this).
This happened on many occasions between the time I was 7 and when I left home for college at age 17. Many additional, inexplicable incidents happened as well, but those are for another time.
After my mom passed away in 1993, my stepdad sold The Chair and the house in Colorado Springs. I apologize to the new owners - and I hope you're able to sleep through the night!
I'm still not sure if I believe in ghosts.. if what I experienced was supernatural in anyway, it may just have a logical explanation, but this is what happened to me and I am certain that its real.
One night when I was about 16, I woke up late in the morning, at around 2 or 3am. I'm still not sure what woke me up but I found myself wide awake with this horrible feeling of dread and fear. I was so scared and I didn't understand why. I felt smothered in my bed, like there was something really big surrounding my room. My heart pounded in my chest and I started to break out in a cold sweat. All of a sudden I felt something hit or slap my back really hard. Like a hand or something. It felt like something else was in the room looming over me and me being the absolute chicken that I am squeezed my eyes shut refusing to open them and see something that would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. I started to feel something like cold finger tips run up and down the back of my neck. I was so scared! I started to pray for something, anything to protect me from whatever this thing was. I suddenly felt this warm feeling surround me and this feeling like nothing would ever harm me again, like when you’re really young and your mum gives you a great big hug and you feel so safe and warm. At peace I suppose you could say. It was only then that I slowly started to drift off into a dreamless sleep.
I believe that the feeling of safeness and warmth I had was from my grandmother who died when I was young. I think that when I prayed for protection she heard me and came to my aid. As for whatever that thing was, I haven't felt it or seen it since.
I've been married for about 10 years but that one fateful night my husband died from his long battle with cancer. It was hard for me but now he is pain free. I always received yellow roses from him on my brithday, but about one year later on my brithday after my party, my friends threw for me, I went to bed but I found a yellow rose, it scared me but it made me feel happy but I thought it was my friends. It kept happening so I finally ask and of course it wasn't them. Then one of the nights of getting the rose, it was cold, really cold and I saw a outline of something but it took me by surprise so I couldn't see it well but that was the last time I got my yellow rose. I realized it wasn't my friends, it was my loving husband still giving me roses.
In 1974 my family rented a house from a family I went to school with in Rocky Mount, NC. I worked second shift at a mill with my father, a work/school program that I participated in that allowed me to go only a half day to school. I would take a short nap before we left for work, since we would not get home until midnight.
When I laid across the bed, I quickly drifted off to sleep. I was suddenly awake when a I felt pressure across my torso. I looked up and a man wearing a black suit was holding me down and he told me to leave the house or he would make me leave.
I could not move and I turned my head to the wall and told him (in not too kind words) to get off of me. I felt the weight lift from all points at the same time. I went to my dad's room and he was asleep and had not heard anything. I moved my bed to the next bedroom down the hall and never saw the man again.
Years later I talked to the family that owned the house. The grandfather and an uncle had died there and the family saw them in the house many times.
We had other events that included the stereo turning on and off, a door that opened on its own when my mother was watching it (I was asleep in the room that the door opened from ).
I happened to stay awake one night when the man in the black suit came to visit my room. I was about 6 years old and I had trouble sleeping one night when there was a man standing in my bedroom doorway. At first I thought it was my father but when I called out to him I didn't get a response. I was getting more scared by the second, I tried it again but my voice came out as a soft whisper. Then all of a sudden he disappeared, it was dead silent except for the hard beating of my heart. Seconds went by and then I started telling myself that maybe I just imagined it when he walked out of my closet entrance and I really noticed what he was wearing. Under the long black coat was burned and seriously scarred skin. He was lifting up his face but I was going to wait around and see it, sudden pulse of adrenaline rushed through me and I screamed for my life. I screamed for everybody in the house, as soon as the man heard my scream he turned around and slowly walked back into the closet and vanished. My parents came running in, my dad carrying his bat turned on the lights and swung the bat, then he realized he was hitting air and my mom sat at my bed and pulled me by my shoulders asking no demanding to know what is wrong. I realized I couldn't speak and stopped trying after the third time. My brothers came up each one half asleep and each carrying a bat saying, "where’d he go, where’d he go", but my father took the bats away from them and lead them back to their room. I couldn't talk for the rest of the night so I tried my best to tell my parents if I could sleep in their room for the night.
In the morning my parents and my brothers tried to understand what I was telling. My mother said to my father secretly in the kitchen that maybe I should visit the psychologist. That night I woke up to screaming, I recognized this scream and ran down stairs it was my mother, and she was pointing at the couch absent-mindedly. The next day our final decision was made, we were moving to another city and never coming back. The reason we decided to move is because the night we woke up to screaming and ran down stairs my mother had seen the man in the black suit sitting on our couch then getting up and walked through our cement wall.
The Luna café, built in 1926, predates Route 66 and still boasts its original sign and style. Said to be frequented by notorious characters throughout history, such as Al Capone, and to have housed a brothel and casino during the heydays of the Mother Road, you can only imagine what the old bar has seen over the years. If only those walls could talk… But wait - maybe they do. According to several regulars owner Larry (A.K.A. Rooster) is serving up more spirits than those from the bottle…
Chip, who is a self described skeptic and one who doesn’t believe it without seeing it, tells us he walked up the stairs to the old sleeping rooms and storage area late one night a few years ago. When his feet hit the landing he looked straight down the hallway to the right, where the hall dead ends into a narrow eight foot long room that no longer has a door. There, in the middle of the dark room at the end of the hall was a woman wearing a milky white and thicker than a cloud robe. Definitely a female, with ashy blonde hair, you can tell she is probably in her late twenties, an elegant looking young woman. Completely shocked beyond fear he hesitated only slightly before bolting into a room and shutting the door. A moment later he threw open the door and swung his head out the door toward the narrow dark room. She had left.
But the lady upstairs isn’t a new story. Kathleen, who is frequently upstairs, will tell anyone about the holographic figures that often wander the halls. You don’t know when you’ll see her, but poke around enough and you will. Mostly at night, but whenever she wants, she appears. Perfectly silent, except an occasional soft foot step. Kathleen confirms she is a blonde, a young looking woman who will only occasionally acknowledge her presence, with just the slightest of a nod. She doesn’t seem to want anything or have a grudge against the mortal residents. There are bigger problems. The man is around too. An older curmudgeon wants to let you know he’s there. He likes to knock on walls, like he’s knocking on a door, but there is no door between the kitchen and first sleep room. It’s clear he likes to startle innocent visitors, and he leaves you with a feeling that you’re the one who’s in the wrong place.
Kevin’s become accustomed to the lady visitor, she hardly startles him now. Besides, he says, when you get a close look at her she seems really calm and always wears an effervescent white robe, she could even be an angel watching out. Watching out for what? “The shadows.” Yeah, the shadows. The ones that cross your own when you’re in the hall alone, the ones that fade instantly when you enter a room, and those that break the light shining in under the door. They still make his skin crawl.
The thing is it doesn’t matter if you’re alone, if it’s day or night, or whether you are looking or not. After closing time, and needing one more last round, Kathleen, Chip and Kevin retreated to an upstairs room and sipped along as it got later. Kathleen ventured tipsily into the hall to the bathroom. When she decided to return for the very last nightcap, upon opening the door, before taking one step, she was greeted by him. He glared at her for only a second, just as long as it took her to slam the door in his would- be face. She couldn’t scream, and could hardly move but managed to lock the door and catch her breath. Deciding that locking the door might not be that effective; she barely cracked the bathroom door and peeked out far enough to determine he had left. She flung open the door and returned to her buds. When the guys saw the look on her face their words in unison rang out. “It’s there!” They sheepishly lined up next to the door with their shoulders pressing up against one another, they all three took a glimpse into the hallway. Now each of them will tell you it was the other who screamed, pissed their pants and called on God, but they will all tell you he was there, at the end of the hall in the narrow room. He turned as soon as he saw them and was instantly gone, not with a poof or flash, just completely gone. A few more drinks were had and nerves were strengthened for the next walk down the hall.
Like most children, I think, I was a little sensitive to spirits. I would see shadows standing in the doorway of my bedroom at night or crouching in the corner near my closet. I also had a very developed imagination- before I would go to bed at night I would close my eyes and watch cartoons, just like the preview cartoons they used to show at drive-in theaters (strangely, all of the cartoons I made seemed to be from the 1920’s and had no sound). I only mention this because I used to tell my mother about the shadows I would see in the doorway to my bedroom and closet and she would pass it off as daydreams, just like my strange cartoons.
When I was five, my cat died. It was very sudden and I was stricken with grief. He had been my companion since I was a baby- he was always with me. You would be hard pressed to find a photo of me from the age of 1-5 without Shanghai in it. I could not accept that he was gone. I stopped eating and sleeping. It was probably the third night after he had passed when he came back. I was under the covers, crying, when I felt something jump up on my bed. I knew that weight anywhere- it was him. I felt him walk up the bed and over my legs. I peeked my head out and there he was- very fuzzy, like someone had taken an out of focused picture of him, and white, but it was him. He curled up behind me in his usual spot (between my backside and my knees) and I felt his big rumbly purr. I did not even think twice- it sounds cliché, but I was totally at peace with his passing at that moment and fell right asleep. In the morning my mom came in and woke me. I told her about the visit and she gave me a sad smile and told me that Shanghai was in heaven and could not come back. It was then that she noticed the indentation in the covers next to me. It was the sort that a very heavy cat would leave after laying in one spot for a long time.
He never came back again, but he did not have to. I think he was just stopping by one more time to make sure I was ok.