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am twenty-six now, and I still think about that house. I have a lot of good memory of that house as well as scary ones. I sometimes drive by the house when I visit my parents in Stockton; nothing has changed from the look of it. I would love to ask the new owner if anything ever happens to them.
Submitted by NM
Categories: bathroom, glow, creek, burial_ground, yard
My grandfather lived in an old cement house with red cement stairs. It was a one-story with two bedrooms. It was actually two properties with the railroad tracks running between the two. There was a gate to go through to cross over the tracks. Anyway when I was a child in the 70s I would go to visit. I loved to play with the chickens out back, and Grampa would get mad. At night so often my sister and I would go under the kitchen table and just play jacks with a ball.
Things would happen; the water would turn on by itself, and the stove would light itself. The lights would go off, and on by themselves. We saw the water cooler depress, and the water came out of the spicket. The place always smelled like old walnuts and musky. At night the grandfather clock would chime, and you could hear the trains pass. I fell asleep one night on a hideaway bed with my mother and woke up and saw a dog ghost. It was a white German Shepherd barking furiously aggressively. It scared me so bad; I threw the sheet over my head and prayed to God for it to leave. I looked again, and it was still there. I repeated the praying and after three times I looked, and the ghost was gone. I never forgot it ever. I'm now fifty years old, and it's as vivid as it was when I was six years old.
Submitted by Gena
Categories: sky, clock, railroad, road, lights
I grew up in a house near Legion Park. It was built in the late 1940s. I come from a long line of ''sensitives. '' My aunt was a medium and my great grandmother a spiritualist. My mother said that I often talked to someone who was not there, and I remember having conversations with someone, but I never saw anyone. I guess as a child I just sensed the spirit was there. My mother hated the front bedroom of the house where my brothers slept. She only went in when she had to, particularly if she was alone in the house. My brothers never mentioned any problems, but when I was an adult staying over in that room I had ghostly experiences. Several times I felt like I was being held down in the bed and could not breathe (my mother had the same thing happen to her. ) One night I had my strangest experience. I was watching TV in the room and suddenly smelled the strong scent of roses (there were no roses near the house). I had a vision that I was dancing with a man in uniform. The strangest thing about it was that the perspective in my mind was of someone short enough that my head only reached his chest. It had to be a past life memory or a spirit sharing an image as I did not feel like the woman was me. I just saw the scene from her perspective.
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