Last summer, my husband and I visited Savannah, Georgia. After walking around most of the afternoon, seeing the sights of the riverfront area, we decided to have dinner at The Pirate's House Restaurant, having no idea of the history of the place. Shortly after we were seated, I asked the waitress for the location of the restrooms. My husband, who also needed to "go" said he'd wait for me to come back.
As I approached the ladies room, I noticed that the men's room was farther down the same narrow hallway. So I decided I'd check out the location once I was done, so I could tell my hubby exactly how to get there. When I came out of the ladies room, I went down the hall, saw the turn to the men's room and then turned around to head back to our table. Suddenly, I heard and felt someone rushing up behind me. There were 4 distinct footsteps- they sounded like someone walking heavily, perhaps in boots, that clunked against the wood floor. It startled me, because they were coming up behind me so fast. I turned anxiously, only to see that the hallway was empty. No one there. The ceiling above that hallway was slanted, and you could tell the roof lay above, so I know it wasn't a sound coming from a floor or walkway above me.
Shaken, I returned to the table, and started telling my husband what I had experienced. Another waitress, seeing my expression, came over to ask what was wrong. When I told her, she said " Ah, you've met our Captain Flynn. Many folks have had experiences similar to yours, always centered around the area of the ladies room." I know for a fact that I felt someone rushing up behind me. I don't think I imagined it, because there was nothing to make me expect that kind of thing. In fact, it was the farthest thing from my mind. Needless to say, that experience was one of the highlights of our trip to Savannah!
In the early 1980's, I attended Berry College in Mt. Berry, Georgia. Berry has a beautiful, huge campus, and one of it's most visited places is Oak Hill, the antebellum home of Martha Berry, founder of the school.
I was fortunate enough to work as a tour guide at the home while attending school (Berry is well known for their wonderful student work program) and enjoyed my job very much. When I had first begun working, the senior girl (whose place as a tour guide I would be taking) that trained me to give the tours told me that "Sometimes we smell food cooking in the kitchen, but no one is there." She also related other incidents that some of the girls had experienced. I found these revelations interesting, but gave them no real thought.
I worked at the house the entire time I attended the college. I roamed about all the floors- from the cellar, where we found Captain Berry's sword hidden away (He was active during the Civil War- the sword is now displayed in the Oak Hill Museum, on the plantation's grounds) to the attic, where the servants had slept. There were stairways within the walls that led from the cellar upward to the attic, so that the servants could service the family without traversing through the main part of the house.
Soon, it was nearing time for my own graduation, and as a senior, it was my turn to train the girl who would be taking my place. I had no intention of sharing with her the ghostly parts of my own orientation, but did spend much time relating the history of the house and of Miss Berry, which we shared with visitors during each tour.
On my last day, Anna, my trainee and I were the only ones left in the house. We were closing up for the day, and as my last bit of instruction, I was going to show her how to set the alarm; located near the front door in the main hallway. As we started down the hall, Anna was perhaps 3 feet behind me. The hallway is large, with a balcony above, and a stairway that curves down from the second story hallway. Miss Berry's room is located just beyond the top of the stairs. At the bottom, in the hall where we were, there is a beautiful harpsichord, where we always kept fresh flowers that were in season from the gardens.
As I walked past the harpsichord and the foot of the stairs, I smelled roses so intensely, I remarked "Wow, don't those roses smell wonderful?" Just as the words left my mouth, I was suddenly freezing, as if an arctic blast had surrounded me, and then the cold was gone. I'd not had time to say anything about the cold burst to Anna, who was replying back to me "I don't smell anything- Oh yes! I do smell them" and then she added, "I'm cold!" As I turned to look at her, I could see no one, but my eyes did fall upon the flowers on the harpsichord. Sitting there was an artificial silk arrangement. I can only assume that someone, perhaps Miss Berry herself had walked past myself and then Anna. Something was definitely there; we both experienced it. Was this her way of telling me goodbye? Even after all these years, it still causes actual goose bumps on my arms when I think of this experience.
I don't have any pictures of the house that I've taken, however, you can find more information by following these links I pulled up on Google.
Web Information Links for Martha Berry and Oak Hill Plantation:
Note- to authenticate what I'm telling you, I want to share that Martha Berry died as a result of Liver disease (actually Cirrhosis) - which they didn't want us to tell people on the tours- they feared it would make it seem that Ms. Berry had an alcohol problem. This is verifiable, but not commonly known.
Rural Texas can be a scary place in the winter at night even when things seem fine. I live in a small three bedroom home with my two children, my nephew and his girlfriend. I live way off the beaten
path surrounded by woods and cow pastures. It is very dark except for one yard light on my property. I don't know the history of this land, or anything about the former people who lived here. They left behind a shed full of boxes and other items. The landlord told me I could clean it out, keep what I wanted and throw away what I didn't want. A friend of mine took some things home with her. A few days later she brought me an urn with ashes and bones in it. She said it was in a box of things she took from the shed. I asked the landlord if she knew where the former tenants were, but she didn't know where they had moved to or how to reach them. My son took the ashes to the creek and buried them, hoping to put them to rest. When I say rural, I mean twenty-five miles from the nearest town, we're way out there. About seventy-five yards from my back porch is the creek bed. I admit there are all kinds of wildlife that roam this property and woods, but I don't know how to explain this. Around three weeks after my son buried the ashes, one night after work, I picked my daughter up from my moms. When I got there she was on the phone with my son, and he was saying "Someone's in the woods behind the house walking around". We didn't think anything of it, because there are cows on this property. I picked up my nephew and his girlfriend and brought them home with me.
When we arrived my son was obviously shaken and upset. He said he went to get firewood and heard someone walking about 25 feet from the backdoor, and so he didn't bring very much firewood in. My nephew decided to investigate, when he came back in, he said you have to hear this. My yard light does not reach the small group of trees where the sounds were coming from, it just fades to darkness and shadows. There was definitely something or someone out there walking around. We could hear the leaves rustling under the footsteps, and the pace sounded like two legs walking and not a four legged creature. So my nephew took the car keys and moved the car where the headlights could shine into the trees so we could see what was walking around. As soon as the headlights were pointed at the trees, the sound stopped, but the headlights revealed nothing. So my nephew walked the few feet to the group of trees to look, but there was nothing there. We shrugged it off, forgot about it and went to bed. Around three nights later, my four dogs were restless wanting to go in and outside. They would go to the backyard and bark continuously. Romeo, my male terrier dog ran out to the group of trees and I could hear him barking and running around, I could also hear something walking. My nephew once again got the keys and shone the lights on the group of trees, all they revealed was Romeo as if nothing was there. He ran to the car thinking he was going for a ride.
I got all the dogs back in the house except one female, Reeses, who would not go to the group of trees, but sat behind my car barking at them. She would not come inside no matter how much we called her, mind you if this would have been a cow we would have seen it in the headlights, had it been a skunk, a opossum, or an armadillo we would have heard it running instead of no sound when the headlights or the dogs disturbed it. Once again we decided to shake it off and ignore it, but as hard as we tried, the air was still bad, and we could not shake an uneasy feeling of being watched. We all decided to go to bed. Around 2:30 A.M, we were awakened to the sound of a loud thump on the backdoor. We all jumped up in a frantic scramble and collided in the hallway. What was that, we were all freaked. We could hear
footsteps walking around the house, and the dogs were barking frantically. We all ran to different windows trying to see what was out there. No one could see anything, but the sound of footsteps continued, so we opened the front door to walk outside but they stopped when we walked onto the porch. By now we were really freaked out. The dogs ran around the house sniffing the ground, but nothing was there. We quickly got the dogs inside the house and locked the doors. For the rest of the night, all was quiet although we did not sleep for fear of the unknown. That morning when the sun came up, we went outside to investigate. On the back porch in front of the backdoor, were two muddy barefoot prints, although they were the only ones anywhere. We can't explain it, and that was the last time it has happened so far. We now keep a very watchful eye on the woods behind the house. I don't keep my firewood in the backyard anymore, and try to stay indoors at night, but there is always that ever present feeling that we are being watched.
Hi my name is David and I am 14 and I have been visiting my aunt ever since I was a baby. She is a very positive person and she brings a lot of force to her. She had many encounters with spiritual relatives but this is one I experienced with my uncle. My aunt's mom had just passed away in July. My aunt went to Columbia to attend the funeral. I did not go cause of school and I stayed with my uncle at the house. It was a Tuesday and it was during the summer. It was about 7:00 PM and we heard walking in the attic. In this house there is a living room and right directly across it are the stairs that lead upstairs. Well anyway back to the story. We started to hear someone go down the stairs and then we heard it walk to the kitchen. I was very frightened. Then as it started walking back up the stairs it stopped and then it left. About 20 minutes later someone was walking down the stairs. This time it wasn't just the noises but it was my grandma, my aunt's mom. This is probably the freakiest part of this experience. My aunt came back on Friday and told us everything about her visit to Columbia. She then told us that on Tuesday she had a paranormal experience and a dark figure came to her side and grabbed her and my aunt couldn't move and she had a hard time breathing. She screamed and it finally left. She then told us that she heard someone coming down the stairs and right there was her mom. They were both looking at each other.
I still visit my aunt every weekend. I haven't yet experienced anything again and hope I never will.