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never would go down there on their own. Things were pretty creepy like that for the remaining two months that we stayed there. I would never ever go back in that house. I feel badly for whoever is there now. Hopefully, the problem has been resolved. Worst house ever.
Submitted by Ginger
Comment by Nathan: In the mid-seventies my family lived in an old duplex on Birch very near Kuntz (but closer to Williams) that had an extremely negative, and I would say dangerous being in the basement of the duplex. Your story about your husband's voice coming from the basement reminds me of it and makes me wonder if they were connected somehow. I know ''my'' spirit controlled the spirit of a bloody little ethnic (probably gypsy) boy. When we lived there the shop on Williams was a 7-11, and my brothers and I went there almost every day. We also went out to theShelterbelt quite a bit, and that was a very different place than it is now (btw there is a ghost story about the shelterbelt as well!). I remember walking to elementary school through that area and some of the neighbors.
Categories: basement, truck, smoke, store, train
I moved to Richland, WA in 1991 and lived on Symons Street for a few years. I am stating the address, so if the past or current occupants experience paranormal there, hopefully they can find this personal account and know they are not the first. When my family lived there, we rented from an old crazy lady I knew as Mrs. Luckey. Her husband passed, so she lived in an old person community, and I would have to go with my mom to drop off the rent nearly every month. The lady had crosses EVERYWHERE and raved about her dead husband non-stop. She was nuts.
Anyways, the house has three levels including the basement. My dad set his home office up in the basement, and I played frequently down there. I often felt chills down there, and we had objects moved frequently. In one particular room with a 1/4 bathroom (toilet only) was an old workshop, I assume it was Mr. Luckey's who passed away. His old tools and tables were still in there. On several occasions, I saw an old man watching me, and he stood with a cane. I told my parents. My dad admitted he had similar experiences, but my mother said we were both crazy. On one visit to pay the rent, I saw a framed picture of Mr. Luckey, and he was holding a cane, the exact man I saw in the basement.
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