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angel, or perhaps a benevolent spirit that was attached to one of the many thousand year old objects found in the building. Either way, we'd love to thank her for helping create some wonderful memories some day.
Submitted by The Spork Guy
Categories: museum, angel, building, children, man
I do not remember if I have shared this before, but here it goes. When I was thirteen years old in 1970 my parents moved to Los Angeles to an area called Boyle Heights. It was on 4th Street and Boyle Avenue. There was a café called Tokiwa Café. The building had several businesses in the front of the café: an upholstery shop and a Spiritualist (Hispanic) church. In the back were two apartments, a one-bedroom and a studio. My grandmother lived in the studio. We moved into the one-bedroom. Thus my twelve-year-old sister and my eight-year-old brother slept on sofas in the living room. The floors were made of wood. The kitchen and the bathroom were linoleum.
Every night when my mother would turn off the lights we would hear footsteps come from the bedroom of my mom's which was in the back of the apartment. They would walk down the hallway. They sounded like men's dress shoes, like church shoes. Then the footsteps would come to where my sister and I were laying on a sofa-bed and would walk around the bed. Then they would go back to the hallway. This happened for weeks. We would be shivering in bed. We were horrified when the footsteps stopped next to where we slept. We sometimes we yelled out ''MOM!'' She would get up and turn the hall light on, and it would stop. She never believed us three kids. She said it was our imagination and told us to go back to sleep. Well we were scared to death. It only happed at night.
We convinced our mom to ask the landlord if someone had died. She did. She asked the landlord, an older Japanese lady. She came back the following month and said during the prohibition of the 1930s there was an illegal gambling ring in the attic of our apartment. There was a round wood table up there. She said that the police were coming, and one man got shot up there and died. After that (by then it was three months later) we would say out loud ''oh it's the dead guy. '' We no longer were afraid, and guess what? It stopped around three days later. Once we were not afraid; it stopped. Our fear was feeding the ghost's energy.
Submitted by Ellie
Categories: attic, bathroom, shop, building, church
I lived in Koreatown in 1997 until 1998 in the building that at the time was still next to the old Ambassador Hotel where Robert Kennedy was assassinated. In my building's second floor hallway the old tower with the cracked window was visible through the hall window, so that was how close we were. One time my cat was staring in the air next to the wall in my apartment like he saw something, and he was watching it move. He looked really bothered by it. I was started to freak out because he never did that before or again, and I couldn't see anything.
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