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Categories: doorbell, silhouette, lights, footsteps, sounds
In the summer of 2005, I left the University of Louisville for the summer to temporarily move in with my sister's grandmother in Lexington off of Whitney Avenue. There have been many visits before in the past, but I never noticed some things until then. The house has been in the family for generations dating back to sometime in the 1800s. My sister's grandmother is seventy-seven now. Being a non-believer but fascinated with ghosts, I heard many stories about past family members dying in the house. When I heard them, I just left them as that - stories. However, one morning before leaving for a temporary job at 5:00 am I experienced something life changing.
I was standing in front of the mirror in mid-brush, when I saw a man standing in the doorway in the corner of my eye. Even out of the corner of my eye, I could tell that he had on overalls and a red plaid shirt or a red shirt. I automatically thought it was my sister's father. But when I turned my head, no one was there. Now there were many occasions when I thought I saw something and then blew it off as if proven wrong. However, this time around, my heart was pounding out of control and I began to freak telling myself ''I am not tripping; I know I saw a man. '' Later that day after returning from work I explained the situation to my sister. She was cool and answered ''oh that was granddaddy, see? '' She then proceeded to show me pictures of him in overalls and plaid button up shirts. She said that there was more than just him haunting the house. Even things were moved or cabinets were opened from time to time. And eventually, like her, I began to get used to it too, although I have never seen anything moved.
I thought back on my encounter recently, and I tried to think of why he decided to show himself to me. And the conclusion is that I never got a chance to see him one last time before he passed away while I was living out of state. I think the last time I saw him was when I was probably nine years old. When the incident happened I was nineteen. So I think that it was his farewell to me and a reminder that he was not far. I did not believe in ghosts until then. He made me believe.
Submitted by Ms |
Categories: home, man, family, university, mirror
My mother and father purchased a very old house in Highbridge, Kentucky when I was twelve years old. Up until that time I had lived in Wilmore, where we played ball, rode bicycles, camped out, and told ghost stories for the fun of it. One time I told my cousin that there was a grave in the Wilmore cemetery, that if you asked it what it was doing, it will say nothing. I even went as far as to take her out there after midnight. She was stuttering when she asked the gravestone what it was doing. After she stood there, listening very closely for a few minutes I laughed and said ''see I told you that it would say nothing. '' I thought it was very funny; she did what most female cousins would do and hit me a few times.
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