My Halloween Tale of living in a ‘haunted’ house.

 

Let me say first, I’m not into the paranormal, but there were definitely some spooky occurrences that took place in my 60 year old house back in Kenosha, WI where I lived with my little dog, Merffy.

I remember the evening Merffy and I were watching tv. (ok…queue the spooky music) Merffy sat up quickly and acted like he was watching a fly buzz around his head.  Then he jumped off the couch, ran to the foot of the stairs and sat there looking up the stairs to the darkened second floor.  I was mildly interested watching his escapades until after about 30 seconds his tennis ball came bouncing down the stairs on it’s own.  Ok….now I was more than mildly interested.  I sat frozen in place with every hair on my head at attention and heart racing.  Merffy picked up the ball, excited with tail wagging while expectantly looking up the stairway. That’s when I gave my ghost a name.  I called him “Henry” as that was the name of the man who built and died in my house before I bought it.

Then there was the night I was taking a bath and heard a crash coming from the 1st floor.  I jumped out of the tub, grabbed my robe and tiptoed down the stairs armed with a… plunger.  Lying in front of the fireplace was a broken picture frame that had been sitting on the mantel. The weird thing was it had been sitting at the back of the mantle, behind some other frames where they still sat undisturbed.  How had that broken frame jumped over the other frames?  I chastised Henry for disturbing my bath and for breaking my favorite frame.

One morning I was sitting at the dining room table eating a bowl of cereal and reading the paper when I heard something fall in the kitchen. A coin came rolling across the wood floor and stopped at my feet.  It was a silver quarter dated the year I was born (Yes..a pretty old coin).  Henry had sent me a gift and I still have it in a little bowl on my coffee table.

There were lots of unexplainable events that hinted that I was either losing my mind or there really was a ghost living with me… and no, I’ve never done drugs.

I miss Henry now that I’m living in Chandler, Arizona.  I guess he didn’t want to move to the desert with me. Now I don’t have a ghost to blame messes and missing keys on…but I do have a husband….

Comments

  1. Really cool post, very interesting. I always enjoy your blog posts and will be back. Keep it up.