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One summer evening, while burning brush on the now empty lot that my husband grew up on, I saw a tall, slender, older gentleman wearing a tweed-type jacket, walking across the property. When he walked behind a tree, he vanished. I told my husband what I had seen and he proceded to tell me about the older, slender, man who he remembered from having lived in the house that had been there. He used to get in trouble for fingerprints in the butter, when he hadn't been into it. The whole family would hear footsteps on the wooden staircase and see where someone had been sitting on freshly made beds. My mother-in-law thought that the figure she had seen bore a striking resemblance to the former owner of the home.
Submitted by Jennifer
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