A True Ghost Story... The House On East 28th Street
This Ghost Story Is 100% True And Happened To Me And My Mother!
I don't remember whether I started out as a young adult believing that ghosts exist, but the story I'm going to share with you here definitely did its part to convince me!
"The House On East 28th" story happened in the summer of 1979 when my husband and I were still "nearly newlyweds." Like everything else unusual that has ever happened to me, my husband never experienced a thing! But my very logical, down-to-earth, no-nonsense mother sure did!
Come with me as my young husband and I go to check out a house we're interested in renting....
Photo credit Google 2012.
The House On East 28th Street - The People Involved
My mom, Izzy, and me were the people who experienced this story first-hand in 1979.
In The Beginning...
Ron and I had been married just under a year when he went to work for the railroad. His new duties required him to travel out of town to work on gangs in other parts of the railroad. I was working and couldn't go along, so we looked for a small rental house to use as a home base while he traveled.
We settled on a cute little house in an old, established neighborhood in Independence, Missouri. When we were visiting with the owner, a recent widow, she told us the whole house was available to us except the basement, where she had all of her furniture and household items stored. Being newlyweds we didn't have that many possessions, so storage was not an issue.
The Haunting Begins...
We eagerly went to work moving into our first "real house." It was lots of fun having what seemed like so much space to live in. On the first night we stayed there, my husband ran out to get a few things at the store and I was alone in the house for the first time. I was just surveying all my work when I was startled by a sudden noise coming from the stairs off the kitchen which led to the basement. It was so loud, and it sounded like someone had kicked a big packed box tumbling down the stairs. I summoned up all my courage after a few minutes and went to check the basement stairs; first opening the door just a crack, enough to reach inside and turn on the light switch. Peeking through, I could see absolutely nothing. I gingerly made my way down the stairs, sure I was going to encounter either an intruder or a large varmint. But having reached the bottom of the stairs, I found nothing but an empty basement!
Now I totally had the creeps and ran back up the stairs, slamming that door behind me. I told Ron about the noise after he came home and after investigating, he had a good laugh at my expense.
Later that weekend my mom, Izzy, came over to help me get the rest of the house put together. She was busy unpacking in the bathroom when we needed to leave on an errand and decided to stay there alone working. We came home half an hour later to find Mom on the front porch, shaking a little and smoking a cigarette. She told us she had heard people moving furniture around down in the basement, and when she went to check it out, nothing was there.
Now, understand that my mother was a completely no-nonsense person who didn't believe in things that went bump in the night! And since I had not told her what had happened to me earlier in the week, I knew something really weird was going on. When I told her what had happened to me she couldn't believe it. But yet she had no explanation for what had just happened to her, either!
Later that night, it was pretty warm so we turned on the air conditioner and fixed a bed on the couch in the living room for Mom. Everything was fine until she woke us up in the middle of the night screaming! While Mom was asleep on the couch, she woke up with a strange feeling and discovered that her hair and clothes were entirely soaked with water, and she was surrounded by a thick mist floating in the air. She screamed and ran for our room. By the time we came out to the living room, the mist was gone.
From that time on, Mom never stayed at our house again! I had no choice but to stay there during the week days when Ron was out of town. I almost grew accustomed to the strange noises emanating from the basement, which would always sound like a heavy box falling down the stairs or someone moving heavy furniture around down there. Nothing ever harmed me, so I just put up with it... but I put the pressure on the dear husband to move as soon as our lease was up.
The Truth Unveiled...
Luckily for me, my husband was transferred to a different location and we gave our landlady notice. When we were there to give her the keys and turn over the house, I told her, "I'm sorry, but I just have to ask... did your husband pass away here at the house?"
To my horror, she replied, "Oh yes, dear. He died falling down the basement stairs."
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