Family "ghost" stories?

Srmcclure

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I do not believe in ghost, but because I haven’t encountered one. I’ll tell you about the ufo,
I’ve seen it in my Aunts house about 200 Meters up. There where about 4-5 lights, just standing there. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a signal pole. Due to my cousin trying run towards it. It Zoomed out, so fast, faster than I’ve seen something move.
I was very neutral to them until it was 3 feet from me lol. A rude awakening all the way around!

Thats cool though! I've only seen helicopters lol.
 

ZEROPILOT

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Nothing new?
I'm out of stories.
(And I'm pretty thankful about that)
But I did hear someone calling my name when I was working on my truck.
Ed...Ed....
It was just an Ibis.
Granted, it COULD HAVE BEEN a haunted Ibis.
 

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ZEROPILOT

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My wife tells me to post this. Even though I don't think it was the work of ghosts.
Last year we went into the mountains of Tennessee on vacation.
We rented a 2 bedroom log cabin at the end of a twisty gravel one lane path on the top of a mountain.
Our rental, two wheel drive SUV tried very hard to send us over the side and down the mountain many times. A steep incline, gravel and an automatic transmission with issues....at night.
After a long day of trout fishing and bar b que eating, we arrived late. Much later than was advised.
We showered and went to bed.
At some point in the night, my wife went to go into the other room.
My snoring was too loud.
I didn't hear her leave. But I was awakened by her screams at around 4 AM.
I jumped up and cleared my head and went into the other room and turned on the light to find her scared to death.
She was serious and sure that two hands had come out from the wall and grabbed her by the neck.
She wasn't sure if she was sleeping and was dreaming. But she didn't think so.
I made a joke about it being the spirit of some old Reb pissed off that some Yankee was sleeping in his family home. (The place is maybe 20 years old)
Truth is that the whole incident rattled me, too. Being a big guy, I had to remain calm.
I mean, after all. I AM the boy that had a stuffed lion bounced on his head.
Who am I to judge?

20190415_102631.jpg 20190415_195716.jpg
 

KarenSoCal

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She was serious and sure that two hands had come out from the wall and grabbed her by the neck.
She wasn't sure if she was sleeping and was dreaming. But she didn't think so.
I made a joke about it being the spirit of some old Reb pissed off that some Yankee was sleeping in his family home.
How totally terrifying! It does sound like the locale and exhaustion could have been a part of it, but you never know. Demons lurk everywhere, waiting for the unsuspecting...

Where are you from originally? FL and SC do not make a Yankee! Has to be north of the Mason-Dixon line!
😉 🙂
 

Blackdog1714

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How totally terrifying! It does sound like the locale and exhaustion could have been a part of it, but you never know. Demons lurk everywhere, waiting for the unsuspecting...

Where are you from originally? FL and SC do not make a Yankee! Has to be north of the Mason-Dixon line!
😉 🙂
HAHA the Mason-Dixon line is my living line---- Never further North than I am now!
 

Frank Lopeyok Mosky

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Does anyone else have family "ghost" stories? Maybe not actual ghosts, but real events that are too strange for you to understand?
While I myself have had some unexplained (to me) incidents from about the age of 5 until about 17, what I'll share with you now is something that happened 40 years ago to my great aunts. The two nutty, never married sisters of my grandmother. They were both very odd. But this story made the local news as well as the newspaper:

One day when my aunts arrived home from shopping they met a young boy who was shoveling snow from their driveway. He asked to be paid. Then said that the lady upstairs in the house asked him to clear the driveway and that she would pay him when he was finished. This alarmed my aunts because they lived alone and when the looked up on the second floor they could see an open window. A window that never had been opened by anyone because the wooden frame had been stuck for decades and painted over many times. It was a very old house.
They had a neighbor call the police.
They entered after the police found no one in the house and saw no damage or vandalism. All doors were still locked.
My aunts then entered the house and saw that nothing was stolen or damaged, but everything. Every piece of furniture, items on dressers, every article in the house had been moved the the exact other side. Like a mirror image. Including undisturbed bedding on backward facing beds as well as a very heavy "China cabinet" that had previously taken two large men to place in the living room, moved across the room with no marks on the floor, The dust still intact around where it had sat before still in the shape of the cabinet. The items in the cabinet had all swapped positions as well.

After this, the family never discounted their stories. And other family members had their own stories in the years that followed.

This would have made for a better Halloween thread. Sorry.
what then happened to the young man? was he trying to lie?
 

ZEROPILOT

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How totally terrifying! It does sound like the locale and exhaustion could have been a part of it, but you never know. Demons lurk everywhere, waiting for the unsuspecting...

Where are you from originally? FL and SC do not make a Yankee! Has to be north of the Mason-Dixon line!
😉 🙂
Born in Florida.
Raised in South Carolina.
Came back to Florida as an adult and so far have been unable to get back.
 

lmichaels_22

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Does anyone else have family "ghost" stories? Maybe not actual ghosts, but real events that are too strange for you to understand?
While I myself have had some unexplained (to me) incidents from about the age of 5 until about 17, what I'll share with you now is something that happened 40 years ago to my great aunts. The two nutty, never married sisters of my grandmother. They were both very odd. But this story made the local news as well as the newspaper:

One day when my aunts arrived home from shopping they met a young boy who was shoveling snow from their driveway. He asked to be paid. Then said that the lady upstairs in the house asked him to clear the driveway and that she would pay him when he was finished. This alarmed my aunts because they lived alone and when the looked up on the second floor they could see an open window. A window that never had been opened by anyone because the wooden frame had been stuck for decades and painted over many times. It was a very old house.
They had a neighbor call the police.
They entered after the police found no one in the house and saw no damage or vandalism. All doors were still locked.
My aunts then entered the house and saw that nothing was stolen or damaged, but everything. Every piece of furniture, items on dressers, every article in the house had been moved the the exact other side. Like a mirror image. Including undisturbed bedding on backward facing beds as well as a very heavy "China cabinet" that had previously taken two large men to place in the living room, moved across the room with no marks on the floor, The dust still intact around where it had sat before still in the shape of the cabinet. The items in the cabinet had all swapped positions as well.

After this, the family never discounted their stories. And other family members had their own stories in the years that followed.

This would have made for a better Halloween thread. Sorry.
Cool!! I'd really like to think there is a "life force" that move from one passing critter to a new on. If that could be true, then I can also think of a few of these being "confused" in that passing process...thus "Ghost"!
But then I'd also like to think there are a few Bigfoots still running around out there too.
 

ZEROPILOT

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Cool!! I'd really like to think there is a "life force" that move from one passing critter to a new on. If that could be true, then I can also think of a few of these being "confused" in that passing process...thus "Ghost"!
But then I'd also like to think there are a few Bigfoots still running around out there too.
Then we can't rule out the ghosts of dead Bigfoot.
 

KarenSoCal

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Born in Florida.
Raised in South Carolina.
Came back to Florida as an adult and so far have been unable to get back.
Well, Ed, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you are a rebel. Being a rebel is OK though! My husband was from AL.

I suppose if you are desperate to be a Yankee, you could possibly claim your wife's CT origins as a cover. It's pretty weak, but you might slip by for a while.

We were at Gettysburg Park one time at a re-enactment camp. I told the Union soldiers that there was a spy (my husband) in camp. The soldiers found him, grabbed him, and marched him away! You should have seen the look on his face!

RIP, Pete...I miss you! 💔
 

Braeden p

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I do not believe in ghost, but because I haven’t encountered one. I’ll tell you about the ufo,
I’ve seen it in my Aunts house about 200 Meters up. There where about 4-5 lights, just standing there. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a signal pole. Due to my cousin trying run towards it. It Zoomed out, so fast, faster than I’ve seen something move.
i saw i big triangle shaped thing about a mile long it was a big black spot in the sky with 10 lights on each edge it speed away and the last i saw was three big blue lights me and my friend saw it them my other friend looked up an saw the same thing only smaller then speed away we were all spooked

we had a big party at night and saw this person by our garden all of the kids had wrenches that i gave them and we chased them out to the neighbors behind a bush and we went to get then to tie them up and report them but it was not there but saw something flash in the trees we stayed for twenty minutes and saw nothing.

our small neighbor hood got robbed because know one locks there car doors and we did not get robbed. the next night we were cleaning up dinner to go out side with our weed burner that shoots flames 5 feet and our bb guns and pellet gun so we would get them with the bb guns if they kept coming we would use a 2 by 4 weed burner and pellet gun with out getting closer so it would be self defense but at 7:30 my dads truck car alarm goes off so we called the cops they searched everywhere but could not find them we say that they probably had to go to bed at 8:00
 

ZEROPILOT

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How totally terrifying! It does sound like the locale and exhaustion could have been a part of it, but you never know. Demons lurk everywhere, waiting for the unsuspecting...

Where are you from originally? FL and SC do not make a Yankee! Has to be north of the Mason-Dixon line!
😉 🙂
My wife is from Connecticut
 

ZEROPILOT

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Well, Ed, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you are a rebel. Being a rebel is OK though! My husband was from AL.

I suppose if you are desperate to be a Yankee, you could possibly claim your wife's CT origins as a cover. It's pretty weak, but you might slip by for a while.

We were at Gettysburg Park one time at a re-enactment camp. I told the Union soldiers that there was a spy (my husband) in camp. The soldiers found him, grabbed him, and marched him away! You should have seen the look on his face!

RIP, Pete...I miss you! 💔
I've got plenty of family history of ancestors that fought for the losing side
 

KarenSoCal

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I've got plenty of family history of ancestors that fought for the losing side
There were plenty of heroes that fought for that side as well. The way history is being rewritten in textbooks is terrifying to me, along with the removal of statues! I'd better not get started on that...
 

Jan A

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There were plenty of heroes that fought for that side as well. The way history is being rewritten in textbooks is terrifying to me, along with the removal of statues! I'd better not get started on that...
My mom said the night my dad died (in a nursing home) in 1991, she heard a noise at the front door. When she peeked out thru the curtain on the door, she saw my dad on the porch wearing a suit & his hat that he usually wore to go to church. She didn't let him in.
 

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My mom said the night my dad died (in a nursing home) in 1991, she heard a noise at the front door. When she peeked out thru the curtain on the door, she saw my dad on the porch wearing a suit & his hat that he usually wore to go to church. She didn't let him in.
Wow
 

MNGuy

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Here's my long story:

It was a sunny day and my siblings and I were on summer break from school. I was 13. (I'm 40 now.) Three of my siblings (1 older; 2 younger) and I were watching TV in the living room of our very small house when our dad came home from work in the mid-afternoon. My siblings shot through the kitchen to greet him at the back door because he often brought home pastries or treats. Our very small house was rectangular-shaped and organized like a stack of boxes with the living room, a small dining room and a small kitchen lined up in a straight row. You could stand at the front door and look all the way through to the back of the kitchen.

I kept watching the TV but soon realized that my siblings had not come back into the room. I got up to investigate.

I walked toward the back door, thinking they were outside playing. At the end of the kitchen I had to take a right turn around the stove to enter a small vestibule. The back door was located there directly opposite the basement door, which we nearly always kept open because we stored our shoes on the steps and hung jackets and flannel shirts on hooks on the basement wall.

The wooden back door was open but the glass storm door was shut. Sunlight streamed in. The basement door was also open, and out of the corner of my right eye I saw my younger brother standing halfway down the staircase with his back to me. He was about two years younger than me and shorter than me. A single bare bulb was turned on at the bottom of the steps, but the room was dark beyond its dim glow. I turned toward the basement.

As soon as I took my first step down my brother began walking very quickly down the rest of the 12-step staircase. He didn't make a sound even though the steps were creaky. There were walls on either side of the staircase with a door on the right leading to a single laundry and storage room in the back behind the stairs. When my brother got to the bottom he turned quickly to his right and vanished.

I hurried to catch up because his behavior was so unusual. I thought it strange that he was able to turn so quickly into the laundry room when the door was located a few feet to the right; you had to walk out into the basement a little further to access it.

I entered the laundry room and looked for my brother. I couldn't see him. I picked my way through the crowded storage area and looked around old furniture and boxes of junk. The light back there was not on, but sunlight streamed in through two windows so I could see very easily. We lived on a corner lot, so our house and portions of the basement received a ton of sun all day -- enough that my mother regularly grew herbs and plants in the basement laundry room.

"Mark," I said, "I know you're in here!"

There wasn't a single sound in the basement. No footsteps. No breathing. Suddenly the bare bulb in the other room went out and through the open laundry room door I saw the basement go black. (That section of the basement -- a makeshift living room with a couch and TV -- had no windows.) I ran out of the back room and tore up the stairs at full speed, pounding the steps loudly until I reached the top.

I spilled out of the door and my three siblings were in the living room staring at me like I was crazy.

"Where were you, Mark?" I asked my brother.

He said he was outside playing with our siblings.

"The whole time?" I asked.

Yes, he answered.

"Were you in the basement?" I asked.

No, he answered, confused by my sudden interrogation. My siblings looked at me with concern.

"Who turned off the basement light?" I asked, getting more and more anxious.

My older brother (about three years older than me) said he turned it off when they all came back inside the house. He asked me what was wrong. I refused to say. He could see I was not my usual self and kept pressing me. I was so dumbfounded by what I had just experienced I didn't know what to say or how to say it.

My older brother wouldn't relent, so I told them how I saw the vision of a young boy and followed him down the stairs and around the corner. My siblings were so shocked they didn't know what to say. Fear crept into their faces. My older brother insisted that we tell our older sister, who was home from college and was the oldest of us five.

He told her my story a few hours later when she got home. We didn't anticipate what happened next: She told us that she had seen the same boy sitting in the same spot on the basement stairs the previous summer. The five of us sat in our living room in shocked silence.

We all remembered that day my sister saw the boy. We were all home on summer break. It was also a sunny day. The four of us younger siblings were watching TV upstairs as our sister and our cousin, who was about 18 at the time, were in the basement playing bumper pool.

All of a sudden we heard loud thundering as our sister and cousin tore up the basement stairs into the kitchen. The four of us asked them what was wrong but they refused to answer. They were distant and evasive. The four of us began making fun of them for being afraid of the basement. We taunted them, but for some reason they didn't react or taunt us back as was the norm. They quietly disappeared into my sister's bedroom for the rest of the day.

It wasn't until I had my experience that my other siblings and I realized that our sister and cousin had refused to tell us what happened in order to protect us. They didn't want to scare us. They had been playing bumper pool when they looked up and saw a little boy sitting in the middle of the staircase. He looked like our younger brother, they thought, paying no further attention to him. But, my sister told us, when they glanced back up at him he quickly disappeared into thin air, prompting them to run up the stairs that summer afternoon.

We all spent the rest of our teen years there and I even had to live in the basement bedroom for a portion of my high school years. My dad still lives in the same house. No one has had another experience there. However, when I visit I stay upstairs and I don't do my laundry when it's nighttime.
 

ZEROPILOT

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Here's my long story:

It was a sunny day and my siblings and I were on summer break from school. I was 13. (I'm 40 now.) Three of my siblings (1 older; 2 younger) and I were watching TV in the living room of our very small house when our dad came home from work in the mid-afternoon. My siblings shot through the kitchen to greet him at the back door because he often brought home pastries or treats. Our very small house was rectangular-shaped and organized like a stack of boxes with the living room, a small dining room and a small kitchen lined up in a straight row. You could stand at the front door and look all the way through to the back of the kitchen.

I kept watching the TV but soon realized that my siblings had not come back into the room. I got up to investigate.

I walked toward the back door, thinking they were outside playing. At the end of the kitchen I had to take a right turn around the stove to enter a small vestibule. The back door was located there directly opposite the basement door, which we nearly always kept open because we stored our shoes on the steps and hung jackets and flannel shirts on hooks on the basement wall.

The wooden back door was open but the glass storm door was shut. Sunlight streamed in. The basement door was also open, and out of the corner of my right eye I saw my younger brother standing halfway down the staircase with his back to me. He was about two years younger than me and shorter than me. A single bare bulb was turned on at the bottom of the steps, but the room was dark beyond its dim glow. I turned toward the basement.

As soon as I took my first step down my brother began walking very quickly down the rest of the 12-step staircase. He didn't make a sound even though the steps were creaky. There were walls on either side of the staircase with a door on the right leading to a single laundry and storage room in the back behind the stairs. When my brother got to the bottom he turned quickly to his right and vanished.

I hurried to catch up because his behavior was so unusual. I thought it strange that he was able to turn so quickly into the laundry room when the door was located a few feet to the right; you had to walk out into the basement a little further to access it.

I entered the laundry room and looked for my brother. I couldn't see him. I picked my way through the crowded storage area and looked around old furniture and boxes of junk. The light back there was not on, but sunlight streamed in through two windows so I could see very easily. We lived on a corner lot, so our house and portions of the basement received a ton of sun all day -- enough that my mother regularly grew herbs and plants in the basement laundry room.

"Mark," I said, "I know you're in here!"

There wasn't a single sound in the basement. No footsteps. No breathing. Suddenly the bare bulb in the other room went out and through the open laundry room door I saw the basement go black. (That section of the basement -- a makeshift living room with a couch and TV -- had no windows.) I ran out of the back room and tore up the stairs at full speed, pounding the steps loudly until I reached the top.

I spilled out of the door and my three siblings were in the living room staring at me like I was crazy.

"Where were you, Mark?" I asked my brother.

He said he was outside playing with our siblings.

"The whole time?" I asked.

Yes, he answered.

"Were you in the basement?" I asked.

No, he answered, confused by my sudden interrogation. My siblings looked at me with concern.

"Who turned off the basement light?" I asked, getting more and more anxious.

My older brother (about three years older than me) said he turned it off when they all came back inside the house. He asked me what was wrong. I refused to say. He could see I was not my usual self and kept pressing me. I was so dumbfounded by what I had just experienced I didn't know what to say or how to say it.

My older brother wouldn't relent, so I told them how I saw the vision of a young boy and followed him down the stairs and around the corner. My siblings were so shocked they didn't know what to say. Fear crept into their faces. My older brother insisted that we tell our older sister, who was home from college and was the oldest of us five.

He told her my story a few hours later when she got home. We didn't anticipate what happened next: She told us that she had seen the same boy sitting in the same spot on the basement stairs the previous summer. The five of us sat in our living room in shocked silence.

We all remembered that day my sister saw the boy. We were all home on summer break. It was also a sunny day. The four of us younger siblings were watching TV upstairs as our sister and our cousin, who was about 18 at the time, were in the basement playing bumper pool.

All of a sudden we heard loud thundering as our sister and cousin tore up the basement stairs into the kitchen. The four of us asked them what was wrong but they refused to answer. They were distant and evasive. The four of us began making fun of them for being afraid of the basement. We taunted them, but for some reason they didn't react or taunt us back as was the norm. They quietly disappeared into my sister's bedroom for the rest of the day.

It wasn't until I had my experience that my other siblings and I realized that our sister and cousin had refused to tell us what happened in order to protect us. They didn't want to scare us. They had been playing bumper pool when they looked up and saw a little boy sitting in the middle of the staircase. He looked like our younger brother, they thought, paying no further attention to him. But, my sister told us, when they glanced back up at him he quickly disappeared into thin air, prompting them to run up the stairs that summer afternoon.

We all spent the rest of our teen years there and I even had to live in the basement bedroom for a portion of my high school years. My dad still lives in the same house. No one has had another experience there. However, when I visit I stay upstairs and I don't do my laundry when it's nighttime.
Cool.
Thank you very much for adding your story!
 
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