This is a feel-good story, 100% true. Not all ghost stories are scary. I know a lot of people won’t believe it, and that’s alright, but a lot of people visit this site because they do believe.
I briefly lived in a house in the mountains in another state last year. Unfortunately it didn’t work out financially for us to be able to stay there, but...I fell in love with the house we’d been in.
It had an occupant. From stories from the previous owner as well as people in the town, I gathered it was the man who’d built the house. I never got to actually see him, but my husband did. He was working in the garden one day, looked up, and saw him standing at our bedroom window on the second floor, just looking out at him. He described him as an old man in overalls, which fit the description of the man who’d built the place. He’d built it for his wife when they’d married and he’d also built the barn in which I found other things he’d built her as well - namely her kitchen table which I restored and brought inside where it belonged.
I did, however, hear him many, many times. Almost every night, in fact. He must have been a hoot in real life because he was very playful. He would tap on the wall right behind the bed at a perfect tempo every night, almost like he was drumming. The tempo would always be different, and I know it couldn’t have been vermin for two reasons, the first being that we had a vermin-eliminating cat who could get into the closet behind the bed because we always left the door open for her and the second reason is that you could just whisper "please stop" if it woke you up, and he would stop. Always. Every time. Worked for both the husband and myself.
On the note of happy, playful spirits, I guess we’re just lucky. This place seems to have one as well. I hear laughter sometimes and see things out of the corner of my eye that dash away, like its just messing with me, and occasionally small things will come up missing only to appear on a table I’ve already searched just moments before. I doubt its senility as I’m not even yet 30 and am well-organized! Whatever it is, its clearly not harmful and is welcome to stay as long as it likes.
When I was little, we lived in an old Victorian house in an historic neighborhood. The house had a lot of history; it was listed in the historical register, so we were able to find out some things about it. It was built for the pastor of the next door church and our living room was where they used to hold viewings. The pastor had a least one daughter; we were well aware of this fact while we were living there.
The activity was never very frequent, but when it happened it was strong. My parents are divorced, so while my dad and stepmom got the house into living order, I stayed with my mother. My dad and stepmom, Lara, told me that in the week or so they were living there without me, they often heard and saw a little girl(presumably the pastor’s daughter). They would hear her laughing upstairs; she would run down the stairs, peek around to look at them in the living room, and run back up. This calmed down once I started living there, but they told me it still happened ocassionally when I was with my mom.
She also seemed to like my toys. Several times when I was at my mom’s, my dad and Lara would find my toys out in my room. We had a strict rule that everything was put away before I left with my mom. Nonetheless, my parents reported finding a plastic tea set I had all set up on the floor of my room and I remember coming back one time and finding marbles in a pile on my bed.
One time I was playing with my stuffed animals downstairs. My stepmom was out and my dad decided to go and get takeout from the local Chinese place. Being only about 8, I of course was not left home alone and went with him. When we got back, my stepmother was pulling into the drive just ahead of us. We got into the house and she went to go upstairs to change clothes or something. The downstairs of the house was all connected- you entered through the kitchen and could either go through the living room or the dining room to get to the staircase. My stepmother went through the dining room, but stopped halfway through. She came back into the kitchen and demanded to know why I had been playing in the dining room. Now this was another strict rule; the dining room had a Persian carpet and cabinets of Lenox china, and it was strictly off limits for me. I knew better than to walk through it, much less play in it. I told my stepmother that I had been playing in the living room and that was where I had left my toys. My father verified this. We went into the dining room to find all of my stuffed animals lined up in one of the armchairs at the table and my doll carriage neatly up against the wall behind the chair.
I also remember odd feelings. Whenever I walked up that stairs, I would feel as if someone was behind me. I would make it about halfway up before it became overpowering and I would run up the rest of the stairs, all the way down the hall into my room, then turn to see if anything was behind me. Of course, nothing was.
Our guest bedroom always frightened me. You could go in there in January with two feet of snow on the ground and it was hot in there. It also felt stifling, like the air was too heavy and was pressing in around you. Whenever we had guests stay over, they would report being unable to sleep because of the feeling. I am convinced there was a spirit other than the little girl that stayed in that room and didn’t want anyone else in there. While living there, even my dad, who didn’t tell me any of the experiences he and Lara had until I was much older and we had moved out, admitted to me that the room was odd when I told how much I didn’t like it.
Most of the feelings and activity seemed to happen on the stairs or the second level of the house, but one thing happened downstairs. We were all sitting in the living room, watching TV. Attached to the living room was an extra room we used as an office. As we’re sitting there, one of our cats comes through from the kitchen and starts to pass the office doorway. All of a sudden he stopped,and his head whipped around to stare at one of the corners of the office. He sat down and just stared. From where he couch was located, we could see straight into the office and it was completely empty, at least to our eyes. Our second cat walked up next to him and also stared. Our dog, who had been lying at our feet calmly, jumped up and ran over to stand behind the cats. All three of them just stayed stock still staring at this one corner. No amount of calling their names of clapping our hands got them to so much as turn their heads. It went on for a good five minutes. Then out of nowhere, they all just got up and walked away, going their own ways. It was completely bizzare.
I never like being alone in that house. Nothing was ever malicious, but it never felt like you were alone. Like there was always someone with you, maybe in a different room, but just THERE. I remember I wouldn’t be upstairs by myself. If I was taking a shower, I would lock one the poor cats in the bathroom with me. I had to have a pet sleep with me on my bed and if they left, I would go into my dad’s room and take one the animals in there. Every night my dad would read to me. There was a desk next to my bed and he would pull out the chair and sit in it. I often felt that after he left, someone else sat in the chair if he didn’t push it back in all the way. I refused to open my eyes because I was convinced if I did I would see someone there. It was one of the reasons I slept with a light on until I was eleven.
We moved out of that house, into another house completely bereft of presences, but I still clearly remember the experiences in the house on school street.
My mother used to work at a restaurant called the Boondocker Inn. I used to go with her to just hang out and occasionally bring a friend.
At the time I was about 5 and what I saw will never be forgotten. Many people say that the Boondocker Inn is haunted but no ghost has ever been seen.
One day when my mother was working I asked for 50 cents so I could use the bathroom and get a gumball out of the machine which was right next to the bathroom. I walked into the bathroom and saw a girl about 9 in a white gown standing in front of me. I couldn’t help but stare at her because she was so strange, that’s when she looked straight at me...her face was a light blue and so were her lips, she looked right into my eyes and I ran out of the bathroom. I kept quiet about the girl I saw and never went into the bathroom again and I tried to keep my mother out as much as possible.
I was about to start kindergarten and it was the last time I was going to be at the Boondocker Inn, that day I noticed something that made me feel uneasy, at five years old you would think I wouldn’t know much about this or even pay any attention to it but I was different than any regular child.
I noticed a rope hanging from the ceiling, they were cut very short and hardly noticeable unless you looked hard, I had heard so many stories about people hanging themselves and I couldn’t help but think back about the little girl and that maybe she had hung herself. I have never been back there and am moving on from what I saw in the bathroom, at the Boondocker Inn.
I am a ex British soldier and at one stage served in Munster, Germany.
The base I am on was a old German SS camp used back in WWII but when the British invaded they took it for themselves. The bulidings had not changed over the years it was still the same layout and structural bearing, even to the point where the old gun racks where still on the walls of most buildings.
One night I was sleeping and I woke up about 12:55 am, my back was turned in my bed and I was facing the window. As I rubbed my eyes I noticed that there was a rather bright light in the room but at that moment in time I thought it was my phone charger giving off a glow, which it did.
I turned over in my bed to look in the direction of the light and there standing just next to my door was a man. He was about 6'2", large build. I couldn't see his feet or as far as his knee area. I could see his back but not his hips. I could make out a helmet on his head and half of his face. This man looked at me and smiled then walked in to my door and was gone. It lasted about 10 seconds. I told no one of this. No one.
The next night I was in the mess talking to some friends of mine and I got on to the subject of ghosts. A friend had asked me if I had ever seen one. I said, "Have you?"
He said, "Yes I have."
He had seen the exact same thing the week before. but in more detail. His room was directly above mine.
If any one reading this has seen anything like this or can shed some light on it it would be nice to hear.
We had just moved into a new house, located in Hot Springs, South Dakota. The house was a decent size containing 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a livingroom, a kitchen and a cellar which I never stepped foot into.
My room was on the top floor, right where I wanted it to be. As you open the creaky wooden door, there are 12 stairs leading up to my bedroom. The stairs creak just as bad as the door does. Once to the top of the stairs, there is a window to the right, which overlooks the wooded area behind our new home. Entering further into the bedroom, you have to watch your step because the ceiling is tilted at an awkward angle, which in a lot of times, resulted in a hurt head. I also had a small bathroom of my own, which I was very happy to have.
I loved my new room from the moment I saw it, yet something didn’t feel right about it. After placing some suitcases onto the floor, I headed into the bathroom and closed the door. I was just about to start brushing my teeth when I heard the stairs creaking. I slowly turned the water off and set my toothbrush down. Maybe I was just hearing things. Then suddenly, the creaking started again, and I could hear the creaking get louder as it neared towards the top of the stairs. My pulse increased rather quickly and I was about to panic until I thought of something. My mom. She likes to sneak up on me sometimes to give me a scare, so she can get a good laugh in return.
I wasn’t about to let her scare me this time though, so I unlocked the bathroom door, swung the door open and yelled "BOO!" as loud as I could. No response. I poked my head around the corner to get a view of the steps and to my surprise there was no one there.
I quickly shut the bathroom door again and started to feel creeped out, and that’s when the creaking started again. My heart jumped into my throat and I felt like I was going to choke. Trying to be brave, and still thinking it was my mom cleverly trying to trick me, I flung the door open again and yelled "BOO!". Again, no response.
I poked my head around the corner a second time, and to my surprise there was still no one on the steps. Now that I was scared and frantic, I rushed back into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Not a moment later, the creaking started again. Except this time the creaking moved beyond the stairs. It was headed straight towards the bathroom, whatever IT was. I stood there shaking, not knowing what would happen next. Right before I was getting ready to yell for my mom, the creaking stops by the bathroom door and then suddenly I hear a soft little whisper... "boo".
I flung the door open and took off running down stairs as fast as my legs could carry me. I was terrified, mainly because it was the voice of a small child, and no children lived with us. I was 19 at the time of this incident.
I was about seven years old when this happened to me. My mom had the custom of coming into my room every night at 9 pm to kiss me good night and turn the lights off and the lamp on. She did this countless times so I was never worried.
It happened one Saturday night, she kissed my forehead as usual, lights off and she left. I think it was about 12 am when it happened. I saw my mom coming into my room. I noticed the hallway lights were off (something she would never do since she is terrified of the dark) althought she was not ghostly white, she did seem very pale to me. She came and sat by me and I said, "Hi Mommy."
She did not answer, all she did was smile a very terrifying smile. I started to get scared since she was not acting normal, so I started to cover myself with my bed covers. She then approached her white hand and started to touch my face. Her hands were really cold. For some reason I did not understand I knew that was not my mother. She kept that smile on her as she raised from my bed (I have to point out that the bed did not feel as if anyone was there) she then walked and opened the door and closed it while still giving me that creepy smile.
I asked my mom the morning after and she naturally said no, I did notice that when I told her her face looked terrified.
When I was twenty one years old, my new husband’s family offered to sell us a house that had been in his family for generations at an incredibly cheap price. They had a difficult time keeping it rented and did not want to hassle with it anymore. We jumped at the opportunity and moved in almost immediately. It was only a matter of hours before strange things began to happen. It did not take me long to decide there was something or someone else other than us in that house.
Almost every night we would hear something coming up the staircase. The steps were old so you could hear every creak. Nick, my husband would jump up out of bed whenever he heard it to go make sure that someone hadn’t broken in. It would always end the same, no one was there. The ghost appeared to get braver as time went on. We could hear the steps eventually come down the hall; they were getting a little closer to our bedroom door with each visit.
Finally, the night came that we had both been dreading. Nick was sound asleep, exhausted from working hours of overtime. I heard the steps dare to pass the doorway of our bedroom and enter our room. I felt slightly aware of something or someone approach the side of the bed I had my back turned to, but I was afraid to look. I just kept my face in Nick’s chest and closed my eyes tightly. I felt as though there was someone right behind me, right behind my head just staring at me. I knew one thing for sure; I was not going to turn around to check. I just wanted to fall back to sleep as soon as possible. My hand searched under the covers for Nick’s hand. I very softly and quietly moved my hand beneath his big palm. I did not want to disturb him; I just knew it would make me feel better if his hand was lying on top of mine.
My back felt ice cold; I tried to bring the covers up tighter around my neck and back. That’s when I felt it. Something moved briefly on the bed behind me. I did not acknowledge it. I forced myself to stay still as if I were still asleep. I felt that if I suddenly reacted, I would see something horrible, so I did not turn around, I did not move. That seemed to upset whatever was behind me. I felt the bed move again, but just ever so slightly. I felt that whatever was behind me was so close to me it was almost touching my hair. I had the feeling on my scalp similar to when you have static electricity in your hair. I was sure it must almost be standing on end.
I rubbed Nick’s palm with the back of my hand. I think I was actually trying to wake him, but trying to do it quietly, so whatever was behind me would not notice. It didn’t work. Nick just grunted a moment and then took another deep breath, he was still sound asleep. I felt another movement on the bed directly behind me again. I actually could feel the blanket I had wrapped so tightly around me tug on me a bit as if someone had laid some weight on it behind me, I was sure that something was trying to get even closer to me. Suddenly I felt air blow on my cheek. It was just the same as if someone had breathed on me, except it was a lot colder, ice cold.
I tried rubbing Nick’s hand again only I did it more aggressively this time. He moaned a little and turned to face me laying his arm across my side. That made me feel a little better, if there was someone or something directly behind me he would have struck them with his hand when he put his arm around me. I no sooner had the thought when Nick’s arm went flying off of me and back towards him. It was as if someone had picked up his arm and flung it off of me. At that same exact moment, I felt a very strong tug on my hair, and heard a whisper in my ear.
"Get out of my room," the words struck me like a knife in my stomach. It was a very raspy mean voice. I woke Nick instantly, but once again there was no one there. Many things happened in that house. We only lived there for thirty six days, thirty six days of pure mental hell. That was when I started to believe in ghosts and spirit hauntings. It forever changed how I view things.
I wrote a book about the whole experience, The Lennox Haunting... It is on Amazon. It has the Look Inside, if you are interested in reading the first three chapters. It is also on the Nook at Barnes and Noble.