ghosts

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  • NikkiSixGuns
    NikkiSixGuns Posts: 630 Member
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    Yup.

    When my husband and I first bought our house we were in a back room together and heard our front door open followed by footsteps coming inside the entry. I looked at him and said "There's someone in the house". He said 'I know". Went down the hall to check it out and found nothing. Door was closed and deadbolted. We both clearly heard the sound of our front door open, squeak, and footsteps. But nothing was there.

    Several months later we were having dinner and our beagle got up and went into the kitchen. She started growling a low growl that we only hear from her when something's got her spooked. I got up to investigate and just before I stepped through the doorway into the kitchen something stopped me. I suddenly had a weird feeling, like "Do I really want to see what's in there?". I flipped on the light and went in. Our dog was staring intently at the middle of the room, hair on end, and growling. There was nothing there. When I told our dog it was OK, she started whining and came over to me and hid behind my legs. Never did figure out what spooked her.

    Many times we heard what sounds like someone in flip-flops walking into our room and stopping before our bed.

    My husband was lying in bed awake one night with his legs apart and felt something slam down on the bed between his legs. He said it felt like someone slapped the bed between his thighs. He jumped when it happened and woke me up.

    I can't recall anything that happened after about the first year in the house. My father-in-law passed away around that time and I like to think he's watching over us. He was a very tough character and could whoop up on any uninvited "guests" pestering us. =)

    I've had other experiences outside of our home, but this post is long enough already!
  • Silverkittycat
    Silverkittycat Posts: 1,997 Member
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    http://www.rationalskepticism.org/paranormal/why-are-photos-of-paranormal-activity-always-grainy-t31868.html

    I like this answer.
    The fundamental woo particle is conceptually very large so accumulations of such will always appear lumpy. The graininess of documented observations of woo is therefore incontrovertible evidence of its existence.

    The unnatural properties of porridge confirms this.
  • wymanic
    wymanic Posts: 62 Member
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    Our Family Ghost Stories recreated in print on 22.9.05 (Really long for those really interested)

    I suppose one who loves the supernatural so much as I do would expect topics
    such as these to arise this time of year. Halloween is near. I've been
    writing since I was 12 years old but I'm not sure if I've ever recorded the
    strange and unexplainable incidents that have occurred in my 27 years and
    before.

    I believe in ghosts. My first firsthand experience came around the age of
    10 when I was playing the Ouija board with my sister, Stacy, whilst my
    mother and grandmother were in the room, protesting the whole time. We were
    living in Grandpa and Grandma's house in the single bedroom with bunkbeds, a
    double bed and dresser leaving no space to really live.

    Stacy and I asked if there was a spirit in the house and the indicator slid
    to 'yes'. We asked it its name and it began to spell 'D-A-V-I' when Stacy
    stopped, claiming I was moving it. I wasn't moving it and from the scared
    look on her face, I could tell she wasn't moving it either. I begged her to
    keep playing with me and I promised I wouldn't move it. You see, even at
    this young age, I'd always been fascinated by the unknown and supernatural
    and I wanted proof. It was daylight with two grown-ups in the room and I
    was fearless. I asked the spirit to prove it was there. I will never
    forget what happened next...

    Grandma had a wire plant stand by the window with some small potted plants
    on it. From the top shelf, a pot began to move slowly. It moved off the
    stand into the open air where it stood motionless and silent for 10 seconds,
    before forcefully crashing to the floor as if someone had hurled it---dirt
    went flying everywhere. Stacy and I were so scared, we broke the needle on
    the indicator, put the board back in the box and put the game away, never to
    play it again.

    Grandma cleaned up the mess and everyon tried to forget about what had
    happened. Still, it has always stuck with me.

    My family has a gift--or a curse. I don't know who started it and why only
    some have it, but I do know that my grandmother, mother, Uncle Bill, and
    sister have it. I guess you could call it the ability of premonition.
    The only story I know of my Grandma Quillin was when I was born. At the
    exact time I came into this world, my grandmother sat up in bed and
    announced, "It's a girl!". Whereby a very grumpy, sleep-disturbed
    grandfather followed with "It was a dream, go back to sleep!".

    My mother seems to have had it all her life, even though she didn't discuss
    it with me in any real detail until this past weekend in Tennessee when she
    tried to convince my Uncle Bill that he had it too.

    Mom told a story of how she was at school and knew something wasn't right
    at home. She told her friend that she really needed to call home. When she
    tried, she got no answer, but she just somehow knew inside herself that
    Grandma had had to pick up a very young Uncle Bill from the neighbouring
    elementary school because something was wrong. Her friend told her she was
    crazy. That night when mom got home from school, Uncle Bill was already
    there with Grandma. He had fallen during recess and Grandma had had to pick
    him up from school to go to the ER for stitches in his head. Mom was
    relieved he was okay. The next day at school, mom told her friend about
    Bill's happenings, her friend looked at her in disbelief and never talked to
    her again. Mom learned the hard way that she couldn't talk to anyone about
    her 'feelings' without sounding crazy. And she didn't. She kept it hidden
    for a very long time and I only found out the following stories after Stacy
    started to experience premonitions as well.

    Mom would have dreams at night--snapshots of car wrecks or people dead.
    She saw her sister, Karen's car wrecked before she wrecked it. She knew she
    was going to be in an accident with her Aunt and Uncle on the way back home
    from a weekend at their house. She'd had a feeling and even called Grandma
    to see if they'd pick her up instead. They didn't and luckily noone was
    seriously hurt in the resulting accident.

    Mom also saw Grandpa Fitz sleeping slumped in his favorite chair, in a
    dream the night before Grandma Fitz called in a panic to say he was dead.
    Mom and Dad went down to the little house next door to find him exactly as
    mom had seen him in her dream.

    When Grandma Quillin had died years earlier, mom and I had similar dreams
    the same night, about a week after she passed. I remember it as if it was
    last night as it was the most vivid I have ever had in my life thus far. I
    was in an attic, looking at gram's beautiful face in a full length old
    wooden mirror. She was beckoning to me with her hand to come with her, but
    I told her I couldn't go because mom needed me. She smiled and nodded and
    disappeared. I woke up. Mom wasn't in an attic in her dream, but Grandma
    called to her and mom told her that Stacy and I needed her. Grandma smiled
    and nodded. Mom woke up. I wrote a story about this for creative writing in
    high school. It made everyone in the classroom cry--even the tough teenage
    boys.

    Mom saw Grandma again in a dream a couple months later. Mom was angry with
    her for leaving and Grandma came, smiled and nodded as if saying it is okay
    to be mad. Mom felt better after that.

    I learned this weekend that Uncle Bill also had a dream close after
    Grandma's death. He was in a car as a passenger when a white car pulled up
    beside him. He could see a woman in white with a bouquet of flowers in her
    hand. She looked beautiful and it wasn't until the car was just about past
    him that he saw the woman was his mother. He banged on the window and
    demanded the driver try to catch the speeding car. But the car ahead sped
    away vertically into space. Bill woke up shaken and crying. He was about
    22 years old when Grandma passed.

    A few years ago he heard a show on the radio. They had a dream interpreter
    on the air. A woman phoned in and described a dream whereby she was in some
    kind of ship and she saw her recently deceased loved one in a ship nearby.
    The other woman was beautiful all in white and she was carrying flowers.
    The woman called to her loved one but the ship shot up into the sky and into
    outer space.

    Bill felt cold sweat break out. It was too coincidental. When the dream
    interpreter told the woman on the phone that what she had wasn't a dream but
    a message from the loved one telling her "Everything is okay; I'm in a
    better place." Bill finally felt at peace.

    Mom still senses Grandma from time to time. She hears her voice in her
    head when she needs guidance and she senses her often at odd times and will
    then see the word 'Elaine' on something in the grocery store and smile. She
    is our guardian angel, watching over us. Mom knew this all along, but Aunt
    Pat and Aunt Karen found it harder to say goodbye.

    Shortly after Grandma's death, the three women were sitting at the dining
    room table at Grandpa's house talking about how much they missed Grandma.
    Mom told them that Grandma was there with them, when suddenly the light over
    the table began to flicker a bit and stop. Mom said, "See, I told you she
    was here." And they all cried a bit harder for a while.

    Of course, I didn't know these stories when they were happening. Only when
    Stacy began to dream and sense weird things did Mom talk to us about them.
    Even then, she was guarded. She had hoped we wouldn't have it---she
    despised it---felt like an outsider who should be locked up. After 27 years
    of marriage, She never even really told my Dad about it until about a month
    ago when in Kentucky with old family friends, Mike and Fran. Mike freaked
    Mom out because he knew she had it without her saying anything about it. He
    knew lots as he and his family have it too. His sister, Dawn, a supposed
    Medium, was alleged to have once been possessed by an evil spirit from a
    Ouija board. As their family legend goes, her other brother, Dave, died to
    free her. Still, I don't know these stories but from second or third hand
    accounts from Mom and Bill this weekend. I do know Stacy's incidents are
    true because I was there for the second one.

    The first time I heard about Stacy sensing the unsensible was when she and
    Mom had gone to Wilco, the local grocery store in Lowell. Everything was
    fine and normal when suddenly Stacy began to sob uncontrollably. Mom,
    startled, asker her what was wrong. Stacy did not know, only telling Mom
    that she felt extremely sad as if somthing bad had happened. After about 10
    minutes, it passed and Stacy was back to her normal self. The next day we
    found out that Stacy's ex-boyfriend had fallen from a horse and died of a
    broken neck--the time of death was the same time they were in the grocery
    store and Stacy began her sobbing.

    The worst one was the dream she had. Stacy came tearing into Mom and Dad's
    bedroom one night in a flood of tears. It woke me up so I went into the
    bedroom too. Stacy, recalled the awful dream she'd just had. "Matt
    Moosemiller, D.C. Smith and a girl were all in a car accident", she said.
    "Matt died." She was sobbing uncontrollably as we all reassured her it was
    just a dream and she should go back to sleep. Stacy had been begging my mom
    weeks earlier to let her come home from school with Matt and D.C. since Matt
    passed our house to drop D.C. off, but Mom had had a bad feeling about it
    and kept refusing, telling her she could ride the school bus. Stacy seemed
    to calm over the next week and she never saw Matt of D.C. to tell them about
    the dream, but knew that they were still alive. The calm did not last long
    and a week later, it happened. The police report stated that Matt was
    driving too fast on the paved country road when the road turned into gravel.
    The car swerved and went into the ditch where it flipped over landing
    upside down. D.C. was in the passenger seat and buckled in; he suffered a
    few bumps and bruises but was okay. Matt's girlfriend, Rebecca, was in the
    backseat; she was thrown around a lot but overall was okay. Matt had been
    wearing seatbelt and it was his seatbelt that snapped his neck, killing him
    instantly.

    I was back at Franklin College when the phone call came. Pete, my
    ex-boyfriend, was Matt's cousin and the whole thing was awful. Stacy was
    not consolable for weeks. She felt such deep guilt like she could have
    warned them, changed things, saved Matt. But we knew she couldn't. Mom and
    Stacy see the future, they can't change it. And if they could, I think that
    that is even more scary.

    I found out this weekend that Mom can sometimes hear weird things during the
    day too. She'll often hear her name called when noone is around. When in
    Kentucky, Mom and Dad visited an old Manor house that had been turned into a
    museum. During the tour, which consisted of an old woman guide, my mom and
    dad, mom entered a room that made her feel uneasy. At about that time, she
    felt my dad behind her whisper and breathe into her ear. Thinking he was
    trying to scare her and not being able to make out what he'd said, she
    turned around saying, " Very funny, Scott, knock it off..." Only to hear my
    dad say "What?" from the other room she had just left. She was alone in the
    room, at least in terms of living beings. As my dad entered the room, he
    saw my mom pale and shivering. She whispered, "Let's get out of here." And
    they left.

    Uncle Bill also has a history of hearing voices. I say that lightly as I am
    about to embark upon a Clinical Pyschology Doctorate and do not want people
    to think I come from a family of schizophrenics who should be locked up.
    Mom and Uncle Bill have the kindest hearts and their good nature shines
    through their very being. They are different than the rest of the family in
    a good way, and their hugs are strong, sincere and make you feel safe. I
    believe their stories because they are not people to lie. They are of sound
    mind and the most 'normal' people I have ever met. I respect and love them
    and this will never change no matter what they tell me. With this said,
    Bill shared with me his scariest experience to date.

    He was at his parent-in-law's home and had retired with his wife, Tonda,
    for the night. Tonda was being a bed hog and had sprawled herself across
    Uncle Bill's legs and one arm. He fell asleep but awoke in the dark to the
    sound of a voice whispering into his ear. He sensed someone next to the
    side of the bed, but in the pitch darkness he could see noone. He felt
    paralyzed as he could not even move his free arm. The voice said, "We're
    here! We're here! We're here!" with great urgency and repetition. Bill
    fought the fear and desperately tried to wake Tonda. She finally woke up
    and suddenly Bill could move again. He told her what had happened to him
    and she, being tired and grumpy, told him he was dreaming and to go back to
    sleep.

    Bill forced himself to calm down again using his rational mind to tell him
    it was a dream. He had calmed down just enough to doze back off when all of
    the sudden the voice was back. The voice yelled louder this time, "We just
    want you to know we're here!" This time, in a complete panic, Bill kicked
    Tonda hard. She woke up angry. He told her it had happened again.
    Inconsiderate as she is, Tonda told him that noone was whispering on her
    side of the bed and she was tired so either stop waking her up or go sleep
    in another room. Still terrified, Bill thought about it. There was no way
    he was going to another room by himself because: A) he was more scared than
    he had ever been in his entire life and B) What if it happened again in the
    other room while he was by himself. At least here with Tonda he could
    pretend it was a dream. Bill never went back to sleep that night. Even
    recalling the story last weekend, he turned pale, was out of breath,
    sweating, and couldn't stand still.

    Bill also believes he currently lives in a haunted house. His is a
    safehouse for stray cats. He has over 40 now and gets support from a local
    animal charity. Often, his cats flip out for no natural reason, or the
    kittens will sit and watch something or someone cross the room when noone is
    there.

    Bill and Tonda have two paintings in their house; both depicting an old
    Victorian house. One is a kitchen scene and the other is of a living room.
    The interesting part of the paintings are that all of the human figures
    portrayed are painted as if they are ghosts. A Ghostly Grandpa in his
    rocking chair watching ghostly grandchildren play with solid toys. The
    apparition of a mother cooking in the kitchen. The cats are drawn to these
    and will stare at them for hours.

    Bill's porch lights also flicker and burn out prematurely. He's had them
    checked but there is no rational explanation. Sometimes they will hear the
    door slam downstairs as if someone has come home, but when examined, it is
    still closed and locked on the inside. They also smell strong smells at odd
    hours. Once at 3am, the scent of blueberry muffins wafted upstairs. There
    is often a strong perfume smell in the kitchen, yet Tonda doesn't touch the
    stuff and Bill swears he's not had other women around. Cigarette or cigar
    smoke is common in the living room when neither Bill or Tonda smoke. Bill
    told us all of this before we went on the Ghost Bus Tour last weekend, only
    to have the Medium Tour Guide, Mary, describe every single one of these
    things at some point on the trip. It was odd.

    I guess that brings me to the most recent account of supernatural events in
    the Quillin/Fitzpatrick family history. Before we went down to Tennessee,
    my dad gave me a brochure book of things to do in Pidgeon Forge and
    Gatlinburg. It didn't take me long to spot the Ghost tour and I thought it
    would be fun.

    Aunt Karen, Uncle Mark, mom, dad and I arrived at the Grand Inn where I met
    Tonda's cousin, Todd and his wife Lori. I liked Lori right away. I also
    caught up with Uncle Bill and Aunt Tonda. We discussed the game plan for
    the trip and decided that we would do the Ghost Tour that very night so that
    we could watch the car show, do Dollywood, and tour Gatlinburg in the next
    couple of days. The tour was at 7:30pm. We decided to to the bus tour as
    Tonda wasn't up for walking. The tour guide, Mary was colorful. She was
    in her late 20s and wore skull earrings. She claimed to be a medium in
    training. Since she was 6 years old she'd seen ghosts and decided to make a
    living from it. She urged people to bring their cameras as they could get
    photos of the supernatural event.

    We went back to the rooms to get ready. Mom and I were in room 5320
    talking by the mirror when the TV switched on. Thinking it was Dad playing
    tricks, I said, "Very funny, Dad" and switched it off. However, Dad never
    claimed the joke and mom and I didn't give it a second thought.
    Back on the bus, Mary showed us pictures of things we could catch on
    camera. Orbs with faces, ectoplasm, colored lights, and colored snake-like
    twisting lights. Mom and Dad exchanged nervous looks because Mom had taken
    a similar picture whilst in Kentucky with Mike and Fran. Even then, Mike
    had told her it was supernatural but she didn't believe him. Mike had
    showed her lots of pictures of orbs with faces in them--we never expected
    we'd catch such a vivid one on our camera that night. Mary also had other
    pictures, such as a ghost dad playing with his kid and an axe murderer
    spirit being burned out of a house. She had orbs, ectoplasm and a white
    cap.

    As we drove slowly along, she told us the stories. Years ago, the white
    caps started out as law enforcers and over time, became corrupt, killing
    lots of innocent towns people. The Bluebills were banded to stop them. A
    duel occurred on Henderson Hill where many lives were lost and in an act of
    espeonage and betrayal, the white caps were defeated and killed. Mary took
    us to the cemetary.

    She told us more stories until it got darker (about 10 minutes). When she
    opened the van door, most of us felt the hot muggy September night come into
    the once airconditioned space. However, my father claimed he felt a cold
    rush of air hit him in the face and then disappear; he was a bit shook up by
    it. Mary tossed out an offering of 9 pennies and let us take pictures out
    of the van, but we were not to get out or walk around. There were 9 of us
    in the van from our family and another two people not with our party. A
    latino boy and an older woman. Lori, me, and the boy snapped picture after
    picture. The moon was mostly full; two days till the Harvest Moon and a
    storm was coming in so the air was very heavy but still. No wind. When the
    flash of the camera went, I could see with my eyes hundreds of little
    flashes in the air. These reflections were not visable at first, but about
    5 minutes into taking the pictures more and more seemed to appear. If
    someone had been out there stirring up the dust prior to us getting there,
    it seemed odd that we were getting MORE with time, rather than it settling.
    One flash was particularly large and bright at the base of one of the
    tombstones. It was around this time, I noticed my mother massaging her
    hand. When I asked her about it, she told me it had gone numb and tingly.
    Mary took a couple pictures with my camera back towards the bus; stating
    before hand that there was something above the bus. She also claimed to see
    a face peeking behind the gravestones. The boy had loads of anomolies on
    his camera too. He even had a shot of two red lights that looked like
    glowing eyes peering into the bus window behind his woman companion. It was
    a very creepy photo. Lori had a lot of colored lights (mostly red) in and
    around the tombstones. I had lots of dust circles and orbs--in one photo
    there were so many, it looked like snow.

    Suddenly, Mary said that was enough, that she doesn't get paid by the hour,
    closed the door and we left. She told us never to invite a spirit home with
    you and told us a story of a cranky white cap who told her he wasn't afraid
    of her, but left when she asked him to.

    On the way back to the tourist information station, Tonda suddenly let out
    a yelp at Bill, saying "What are you doing to my leg....God, it's on fire!"
    And she started to move about uncomfortably in her seat. A few minutes
    passed before it went away. Tonda and Karen asked Mary about communicating
    with dead loved ones. Tonda wanted to know for her dad who passed 3 years
    ago and who she has been unable to move on and is still suffering a severe
    depression over. And Karen asked for Aunt Dorothy and probably Grandma
    still. Mary told them to be patient and make an offering of their favorite
    food or drink.

    Bill spoke to Mary of his house and she said she'd love to visit. She said
    she'd heard stories of hotels in the area being haunted. Without saying it
    in so many words she alluded to the Honeymoon suite at the Family Inn. She
    talked of lights flickering and the TV coming on and off. It was at this
    moment that my mother and I looked at each other and told the group what we
    had experienced earlier. The other two in the van told us that they too had
    experienced things in their room prior to coming--their radio switched on
    with lots of white noise playing loudly.

    When we returned back to the hotel, Mom wanted a closer look at the bright
    'orb' by the base of the tombstone. She said "Zoom in, I bet there is a
    face." I did and nearly dropped the camera with what I saw. There inside
    the bright bubble of light, a girl as plain as day with flowing hair or a
    hood looked back at me. I ran to Uncle Bill's room. We all talked
    excitedly for hours. Some of us wanted to go back to the graveyard, but
    others were too scared or tired.

    For the hell of it, I took a picture of mom in a chair near the hotel room
    door. To my surprise and fear, I saw the flashes through the viewer. Mom
    saw me go pale and asked what I'd seen. I told her orbs. We took a lot
    more pictures in the room. Most of the orbs were around Mom or Uncle Bill
    but there was a big one on the curtain next to me. They could have been
    dust, but what I can't explain is how Uncle Bill knew where they were before
    I took the pictures; he said he could just sense it.

    At about 2am, we retired to our own room. As I was getting ready to take my
    contacts out, the light began to flicker next to me. That was the last
    straw. At 27 years old, I slept with my mommy and my daddy in a double bed
    that night. It was a tight squeeze but I felt safe at least as I tried to
    sleep.

    The next day, we were all tired and it was raining hard. At breakfast we
    still talked of ghosts and the experiences the night before. I still wanted
    to go back to the cemetary. I wanted more proof. We ate breakfast and
    toured Gatlinburg's shops in the rain.

    In the mall, Uncle Bill, Mark, Me and Mom sat on a bench in that order
    waiting for the rest to finish shopping. Out of nowhere, Uncle Bill looked
    at me and said, "What?" I said, "I didn't say anything." He looked scared
    and said, "You didn't just whisper something to your mom?"
    I said no. He looked puzzled. Mark was between us and said he had heard
    nothing. Bill swore he heard my voice in his ear closest to me. We were
    all silent for awhile.

    Back at the hotel, I knocked on our door 4 times and I heard a light rap 3
    times back coming from the next door on the right but from the inside of the
    room. Puzzled, I looked both ways down the hall. Thinking it must have been
    from another floor of the motel, I shrugged it off. Who would knock from
    the inside? I keyed into the room and stopped dead...the TV was on again.
    I left to Uncle Bill's room and told them of the TV and the strange
    knocking.

    In Bill's room, strange things were also happening. As Bill would pass by
    any light in his room, it would start flickering. I witnessed it. Mom
    started to refuse to come in their room because of the weird feeling she
    kept getting. Both Todd and Bill witnessed a strange fog coming DOWN from
    the turned on extractor fan in the bathroom; and noone had taken a shower so
    it wasn't steam. The fog seemed to have lots of sparkly glitter in it and
    it scared both men pale.

    Uncle Mark, Karen's husband, thought we were all nuts as he didn't believe
    any of it. Especially when Tonda asked the spirit to leave and opened the
    hotel door. Mom and Bill said it hadn't gone. We decided to go back to
    Mary to see what she made of it all.

    I showed Mary the picture of the face without telling her what it was. She
    saw it right away and seemed to be excited by it; asking me to please email
    it to her. She said it was one of the clearest faces she had ever seen
    photographed (see below). We told her we wanted to go back to the cemetary and she said
    we must take an offering of 9 something. We also told her what Mark had
    said earlier about not believing until something moved or slapped him. At
    the time, Mom had slapped him and he said he meant something dead, not
    something that LOOKED dead. Mary said he shouldn't have said that. She
    suggested he say it in the graveyard and see what happens.

    That night we did not go back to the graveyard, instead we told each other
    stories (the ones I've recorded in this entry). That night I fell asleep as
    fast as I could while the lights and TV were still on. Although I kept
    waking up, pure exhaustion helped me sleep.

    The next day, we went to Dollywood while Dad and Mark golfed. It wasn't
    until eating dinner that night that Mark told us of his strange attack the
    night before. I could tell he was shaken which was completely out of
    character for the cool-headed Firefighter/EMT. He had been sleeping when he
    felt a terrible pain in his lower abdomen as if he were being squeezed to
    death. He had been sick and had given his diarrhea to the rest of us (me
    included) over the past couple of days. So, he thought if he went number
    two he'd feel better. He stumbled to the bathroom; waking my dad but not
    giving him time to question Mark's strange behavior. In the bathroom, he
    sat on the toilet, but the pain was unbearable--nothing like he'd ever
    experienced before. He couldn't go; could not even pass gas as he doubled
    over the bathtub holding himself and wishing the pain away.

    In the meantime, Dad lay in bed wondering what was taking Mark so long and
    if he was alright. Mark decided to try and lay down in bed again since
    being in the bathroom was getting him nowhere. He literally crawled from
    the bathroom back to the bed and layed down. Suddenly, the attack was over;
    the pain was gone and he could breathe again. Sweating and scared, he heard
    dad ask him if he was okay. Mark didn't want to talk about it then, said
    yes and went to sleep. He told us the story the next day and there was no
    joking in his voice.

    Mom was trying to find rational excuses for everything. Orbs were dust.
    The light bulb in our room was loose; dad tightened it but it still
    flickered when Karen left the room and it was only mom and I there. She
    also found that the TV had an alarm and that it was set to come on at
    2:58pm. It made sense for the TV being on earlier that day, but not for the
    day before when it was a bit after 4pm when it came on while we were there
    to see it, blamed dad, and shut it off.

    Bill came over to ask if we wanted pizza. We said no. A little while
    later in their room, they would all hear 3 light wraps on the door (as I had
    done earlier); thinking it the pizza guy, they would open the door to find
    noone there.

    The final night of the trip was the full Harvest Moon, and after all the
    'supernatural' hype thus far, six of us couldn't help but want to go back to
    the start of it all and return to the cemetary. Mom, Bill and Tonda
    wouldn't go. Mom and Bill were scared and Tonda couldn't be bothered saying
    she can get pictures of orbs in her kitchen at home, why does she need to go
    to the graveyard. It was true. Bill had caught some unusual lights in the
    kitchen after smelling the perfume and some of the cats going a bit crazy.
    They both felt it was best left alone. But, the rest of us were determined.
    Me in particular, and Lori.

    Lori could sense things although she'd never heard or saw anything out of
    the ordinary. She would get feelings about people and places and know
    instantly if she liked them or needed to get away. She had also had a
    couple of premonitions with respect to her sons; nothing like my mom or
    sister though.

    As we were getting ready to go, the clock was striking 12:30am. Mom begged
    us all to stay in the jeep, roll down the windows, snap some pictures and
    leave quickly. If Lori had even a slight bad feeling we were going to get
    out of there, pictures or not.

    I can't explain how I was feeling as we drove to the graveyard; scared and
    excited mostly. Lori and I shared a front bucket seat so she was basically
    sitting on my lap--her small frame wasn't heavy but I felt my leg beginning
    to go a bit numb. We pulled up and Lori spoke, saying we meant no harm, we
    just came to visit and take some pictures. We threw out 9 pennies and
    leaned out the window.

    It was funny but once we were there, I was feeling surprisingly relaxed.
    The night was so bright from the moon, it was not scary at all. I took some
    pictures and there was nothing. Too bright, I feared, but then I aimed the
    camera towards the back of the plot to an old oak tree looming in the dark.
    I saw some flashes. Karen got quite a few orbs towards the back of the
    graveyard as well. Lori said we had pulled too far foward. Then, the phone
    rang. It was my mom freaking out, asking us why we were still there. At
    that moment, Mark got out of the jeep. I cringed. He still thought it was
    all dust and boasted how he used to play in graveyards when he was young
    with his buddies and how they used to knock over stones and stuff. Once an
    *kitten*, always an *kitten*, I supposed. He walked at the edge of the
    graveyard but I noticed that he hadn't gone in. I heard mom ask dad if
    anyone had gotten out--he lied and said no. But I knew, she knew. So did
    Lori. My dad being the macho follower he is, hung up after reassuring my
    mom we wouldn't be long, and opened his door. He wanted to get a better
    picture of the dark behind the jeep. I told him to get back in the jeep;
    what would he tell mom! He took a couple more photos and got back in.
    Curious about the dust theory, I challenged the courageous Uncle Mark to
    walk up the path in the graveyard a bit to see if he could kick up some dust
    and if we get more 'orbs' on film. He said okay but looked a bit nervous.
    He didn't go far, but far enough--about to where Mary had gone two nights
    prior. We didn't get any more orbs on camera then we were already getting.
    He came back to the jeep and started taking pictures whilst moving his
    camera around. The weird thing was that his pictures showed snakes of light
    from what ever angle or design he moved the camera. However, the tombstones
    were not distorted. Probably a fault with his camera. That was another
    strange occurance we noticed both times we went to the cemetary. The
    cameras had acted funny both nights--shutting off unexpectedly, low
    batteries flashing while we were there, but fine when we got back into town.
    Lori couldn't get her camera to shut off for a full hour after our first
    visit. All the camera's were fine the rest of the trip---it was very
    strange.

    The lights on Mark's camera looked like the ones mom got in Kentucky, but
    our camera didn't do Mark's camera trick. Plus, there were no other lights
    than the moon out there to be catching the movement. The light was strange
    and twisted. Mark still thoguht it was a camera trick but Lori thoguht
    otherwise.

    We decided to turn the jeep around to face the otherway--the darker part of
    the cemetary to see if the pictures would be any better. When, the phone
    rang again. A car passed and after it was gone, I took a picture away from
    the graveyard only to get hundreds of orbs again. It could be dust--the car
    kicked up loads, I thought to myself.

    The phone was my mother again. I could hear her loud panicky voice
    speaking to my father--she was nearly in tears. We started the jeep and
    left.

    Back at the hotel, Karen had a disturbing picture of an orb that looked
    like a man's head tilted back in pain. I didn't like that picture at all;
    it gave me instant chills. I took a few pictures outside the hotel in dark
    corners and up into the night sky. I got a couple of 'orbs' here and there.
    I was confused--I haven't really taken many pictures at night--do you
    always get these reflections off dust or water molecules in the air? But it
    didn't explain the ones in the hotel in the light--yes the room wasn't the
    cleanest, but how did Bill know where they were going to be in the picture?
    They weren't visible with the naked eye. Psychologically minded, it could
    be chance. It could be paranoia. It could be the power of suggestion.

    At Bob Evans the next day, I saw a Black Man's face in an advertisement for
    a Reece's Sunday. The chocolate cup and white icecream made the face jump
    out at me. I showed everyone and they could see it too. That is not
    supernatural; that is creativity of the human mind, seeing what it sees and
    making patterns. That is why we can see a face from a circle, two dots and
    a sideways 'C'. It doesn't make it a face--a REAL face of a deceased one. I
    can also see the Man in the Moon, but I know in reality that they are just
    huge craters that look like the shadowy features of eyes, nose and mouth.
    In conclusion, all I know is that for three days, nine adults were scared
    out of their wits by somethings we can not explain at this time.

    As for my family now, Mom's taken it all and locked it away again, claiming
    she doesn't believe in any of it. She says she has silly dreams that mean
    nothing. She's always had bad hearing (the voices are nothing). And that
    everything else is explanable through hysteria, dust and bad wiring in the
    hotel. She told Uncle Bill she was wrong in trying to convince him that he
    had what she had because she has nothing. And that is how she put herself
    back together to get on with her life and to go to work and to cook and
    clean and quilt and all the other things she does in her 'normal' daily
    life. She let me make a cd of the ghost pictures and then she wanted them
    all deleted forever. She says she doesn't want any memories from that
    weekend. Unfortunately, I think it will be a long time, if ever, before I
    can forget the strange happenings that seem to follow my family.

    There have been loads more since 2005, but I haven't had the time to log them as these above.
    Here are a couple of our photos.

    zxw38n.jpg
    v33dxv.jpg
  • iLoveMyPitbull1225
    iLoveMyPitbull1225 Posts: 1,691 Member
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    There was this motion sensor that would voice indicate downstairs (since that's where our offices were) that "someone has opened the front door", or "someone has opened the side door" if in fact someone had openened either doors. There were MANY times when I was in the building alone, with all of the doors locked (and others had the same experiences) where the sensors would go off).

    A place I used to work at had these sensors. They would go off from time to time, the "back door" was padlocked and never opened. I often worked alone and had to come in around 5 AM so it was preeeeetty creepy when all of a sudden in the silence I hear "back door"... Id always call someone just to talk to me lol

    This isnt a direct experience of mine, but my friends son is 6 now (not sure how old at the time) and the house that his grandparents live in sits on a huge farm. One day they were just sitting on the back porch and he starts to cry, very very upset. when they asked what was wrong he was pointing out into the feild and said the house was on fire. Many years ago there was a house on the property that burnt down. He also used to talk about playing with a little girl on the property that they later found out had lived in the house before it burnt down. I think he even knew her name.

    Another friend told me a story of a house she used to live in in the Carolinas that was close to a civil war battlefield. She said she woke one night out of the blue and saw a man in an old uniform standing at the foot of her bed. She didnt think anything of it and didnt mention it to anyone. But a few years later they went back (the house stayed in the family) and stayed there for easter or some holiday. Her son told her one morning that he had had the same exact experience, a man in uniform in his room.

    Like another poster said, I have seen my cat run around the house. She lived to be like 20 years old ( amazing I know) and we had to put her down, but her favorite place to sleep and lounge was my sisters room. I have walked past my sisters open door and thought I'd seen peaches laying on the bed, or running across the floor.

    When I was a kid I played with quoija boards and had seances but we were just kids. Everything we experienced we were looking for and I don't really see much truth in any of it. We were just little girls tryna scare ourselves.
  • tmanfromtexas
    tmanfromtexas Posts: 928 Member
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    I do. After my father passed away but before my mom passed we were at their home that they had bought before my dad passed. We were taking pictures of all of us like you do at Christmas. When I plugged the camera in to down load the pics, there were orbs all over the place. It was crazy. I showed them to my wife and we never showed them to anyone else. I had a feeling my dad was there and this in my mind confirmed it.

    Several years ago we went to Marie Levoux's place in NOLA. My wife and I went in and the futher I went into the voodoo shop, the more ill I got. I told my wife of how I felt and she thought it was just BS. I had to run out of the shop so I wouldnt throw up. As soon as I got outside the feeling went away. I tried to go back in and it immediately came back upon me. I walked back outside and waited for her. She thought it was odd and still thought I was full of BS (gotta love those cajun women with their gregre) until we had the film developed and ALL of the pics she took in that shop were black. Every print was black as night. She never questioned me again about "feeling" things.

    Last quick story, I was working near NOLA and we had a day off so we went to a plantation for a tour. As we were headed up to the second floor, I smelled cigar smoke. I asked the tour guide if they allowed smoking and she said no, why did I ask. I explained I smelled cigar smoke and she just smiled. She said something along the lines, that was common among visitors, and that today's visitors couldnt smoke but the old owners of the plantation could. She winked and we went about our tour. It was interesting to say the least.
  • knwitall
    knwitall Posts: 420 Member
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    Bump... interesting reading :)
  • mushroomcup
    mushroomcup Posts: 145 Member
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    My hometown is a city that makes a lot of money on people believing that every other building (at the VERY least) is haunted. It makes me feel bad for some of the tourists.

    Edit: It also pays some bills, so I don't feel TOO bad for them.

    I believe it can all be explained through natural forces- just because we can't do it yet is no reason to attribute phenomena to something supernatural.

    I don't believe in ghosts, but I LOVE ghost tours. I don't think it's a rip-off to tourists like me (or ones who believe, for that matter). If you haven't been on one, you should definitely try it out!
  • mirandamayhem
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    Anyone ever think that these "ghosts" are demons trying to fool people into thinking there is a spot between heaven and hell?

    No, but I don't believe in the Christian hell, or indeed heaven, or indeed Christian demon. The devil is something the Abrahamic religions all share, but something I do not believe in.
    I've heard this reasoning before. But having been involved with mediumship for some time now, I find it hard to believe that "demons" would come and impersonate loved ones, only to bring a message of love to those in need. Sorry, I don't buy it, in the same way that a lot of people don't buy the idea that ghosts and spirits exist at all.
  • JennyLisT
    JennyLisT Posts: 402 Member
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    My hometown is a city that makes a lot of money on people believing that every other building (at the VERY least) is haunted. It makes me feel bad for some of the tourists.

    Edit: It also pays some bills, so I don't feel TOO bad for them.

    I believe it can all be explained through natural forces- just because we can't do it yet is no reason to attribute phenomena to something supernatural.

    I don't believe in ghosts, but I LOVE ghost tours. I don't think it's a rip-off to tourists like me (or ones who believe, for that matter). If you haven't been on one, you should definitely try it out!

    Oh, I've been on the ghost tours. They're hard to avoid in Savannah, GA. I like the stories behind the alleged hauntings. I just think a lot of tourists get ripped off because some of the stories on the tours are so obviously rubbish that was slotted in to make another stop on the tour.