|Our Haunted House|
Before Cindy and I moved to Texas, we lived in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia. We had rented an old three bedroom, brick home in an established neighborhood. We thought we might be there for a couple of years until we determined what our work situation might be.
This home did have some charm---located on a full, wooded acre lot, with giant hardwoods and literally teeming with wildlife---chipmunks, rabbits, squirrels and all manner of birds.
We were enjoying our home very much for the first few months, when a series of increasingly troubling incidents began to occur.
The first seemed so innocuous....we would simply hear unexplained noises from within the house---little creaks and groans that seemingly had no explanation. "Well" I reasoned several times, "this is an older home, and we should expect noises and such."
One of our daughters came to visit one weekend. She decided to go to bed early, and retired to the guest bedroom, and closed the door for the evening. The next morning, we asked her if she slept all right. She said she finally slept OK "after all that noise from the doors slamming." Cindy and I didn't know what she was talking about. We certainly had not slammed any doors, and we certainly had not heard anything unusual. "Yes", she explained, "for about two hours after I got in bed, doors were slamming---VERY LOUD---from elsewhere in the house. I can't believe you didn't hear it."
This was completely unexplainable. Cindy and I just looked at each other and shrugged. We began to understand better a few nights later after we had retired one evening. We were lying in bed, not yet asleep, when the VERY LOUD slamming of doors began---it was very startling and unexplainable. Now, let it be known that I sleep with a loaded .357 magnum handgun in the nightstand drawer next to the bed. I immediately drew the weapon and set out on a search-and-destroy mission. The only problem was that there was nothing there. Nowhere. I could not believe that there was not a real person present slamming doors. This is when we began to understand our daughter's comments.
Other times, we heard noises from our basement. With gun in hand, in the middle of the night, I would investigate. Nothing. Nada. Zip.
Our church welcomed a new preacher, and as part of his campaign to get to know the parishioners, he asked if he could come by our home for a few minutes to visit. "Would 2:00 PM on the 20th be convenient?", he asked. "Of course", we replied. Well, at ten minutes 'til 2:00 we began to expect our doorbell to ring, but at 2:05, he had not arrived. I looked out the front window, and his car was there. I went to the front door and opened it. There he stood. I welcomed him to our home, but asked if he had rung the doorbell. "Oh, yes", he said. "Several times. I was just getting ready to leave because I didn't think anyone was home". I told him the doorbell had not rung---maybe it was not working. "Oh, it works", he replied..."I could hear it ringing from the porch." Cindy and I had no explanation of this event. After he left, I tested the doorbell. It worked fine.
The creepiest moment was one January night. The temperature was 5 degrees and the wind was 20 MPH. In short, it was bitter cold. We went to bed and snuggled together for warmth. Suddenly, heavy footsteps began walking down the hallway from our den toward our bedroom. My mind interpreted this to be a heavy man, possibly with boots on, striding down our hallway to our bedroom at the end of the hall. My first thought was to grab my gun. But....something told me that this could not possibly be a human being---if it were, that would mean they would have had to have been outside in that terribly cold weather. Absolutely NO ONE could have been outside that night. Also, they would have had to break into the house, which would have made noise, which would have alerted me long before they got to the hallway.
So...I sat up in bed as the footsteps came right up to our doorway, where the sounds ceased. There was no one there. Cindy was present with me when all of these things happened, so I know it was not just me going crazy. There were other similar incidents that occured which I have not described.
We tried, without success, to determine the history of that home---who had lived there, if there had ever been any unexplained death, or tragedy, or if there had been any previous reports of ghosts. Neighbors we asked were not aware of any incidents.
When we moved away, the ghost, or spirit, or force (whatever you want to call it) apparently remained behind. Cindy was afraid it might follow us.
If you had asked me if I believed in ghosts before all this happened, I would have said no. But now, having experienced the presence of a spirit, I say yes. There are things of this world that we mere mortals do not understand.
I would love to have your comments.