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Haunted House - My Experience with Paranormal Activity

Updated on October 14, 2013
This doesn't look like a haunted house, does it?
This doesn't look like a haunted house, does it? | Source

Scary Stories

After the strange occurrences I experienced yesterday, I’m inclined to believe I live in a haunted house. I like scary stories as much as the next person, but I always take them with a grain of salt. You know, something mild to enjoy with the grandkids, or maybe something a bit scarier to enjoy around a campfire with other adults. Real ghost stories are my favorite, although scary stories don’t have to involve ghosts, of course. They might be about any sort of paranormal activity. Believe it or not, I’m a very honest, down-to-earth person. I don’t believe in daily horoscopes, in tarot cards, or in palm reading. I’ve never seen an alien or a bigfoot, either. I do believe, however, that there are things beyond human understanding. As a Christian, I also believe that our souls or spirits continue on after the physical body dies. I try to keep an open mind when I hear scary stories and tales touted as real ghost stories, even though I’m somewhat skeptical. As Shakespeare said in Hamlet, “There are things in Heaven and Earth that you haven’t thought of or dreamed about, Horatio.” I tend to agree with the Bard. That’s why I think I might be living in a haunted house.

Have I been visited by my father's ghost?
Have I been visited by my father's ghost? | Source

Real Ghost Stories

Like just about everyone else, I’ve heard my share of supposedly real ghost stories. To be honest, I never put much faith in them until something strange happened to my best friend. We lived just a few houses away from the time we were three until I got married and moved away. When we were teenagers, we were talking on the phone one bright, sunny afternoon, and I decided to walk over to her house once we ended our phone chat. When I arrived, she was running out her front door, and she was shaking and as white as a sheet. I finally got her to calm down enough to tell me what was wrong.

As she hung up the phone from talking with me, she heard something in her house. She looked down the hall and saw a woman run from the living room to the kitchen. The woman was dressed as a southern belle, and following her was a man dressed in a Confederate uniform. My pal was terrified, so she didn’t follow the couple to see where they went. Is this a true ghost story? I have no way of knowing that. All I know is that my friend had to have seen something unusual, based on her emotional condition. I believe it had to be some sort of paranormal activity.

I didn’t experience real ghost stories for myself until I was much older. I’m convinced that my father’s ghost has visited me a few times in the past few years. To read those true ghost stories, click the link. I saw his image in 2003, on the day when we welcomed my first grandchild to the family. Dad left pennies all over the house, all dated the year he died – except for one. One penny was from the year Daddy was born – 1916. I saw Dad’s “ghost” again in 2008, on the day I turned fifty. This past October, I saw the same image of my father on his birthday.

The hutch where we keep our keys.
The hutch where we keep our keys. | Source
The old box of cards and envelopes.
The old box of cards and envelopes. | Source

Haunted House

Why do I think I might live in a haunted house? My home certainly doesn’t look like it would be the setting for scary stories or real ghost stories. It’s a brick ranch that was built in 1961. No one has ever lived in the house except for my family, as Mom and Dad purchased it brand new. I had just turned three when we moved in, and I remained until I got married, at the age of eighteen. My parents continued living here. In 2001, my father shot himself in my old bedroom, but the shot wasn’t immediately fatal. He lived for three weeks in ICU. No one has ever died in this house.

In 2003, my mother was showing signs of Alzheimer’s, and I didn’t want her to have to move to a health care facility, so we moved in with her. Hubby and I lived here with Mom until around 2005. By then, her Alzheimer’s was advanced enough that we had no choice but to place her in assisted living. Hubby and I continued living here. After Mom died in 2008, I paid my brother for his part of the house, and my husband and I continue to reside in the house.

As I’ve already mentioned, I’ve experienced a few occurrences that could be called paranormal activity. The experiences were all several years apart. Yesterday, however, three happened – in the same day. I’ll tell you about them in the order that they happened.

The first occurred yesterday afternoon, when I wanted to go to the gym and was searching for the car keys. Hubby had used the car last, but the keys weren’t in their usual place. We always leave them on the hutch by the back door. I looked there first, but no keys. Hubby helped me search for the keys, but we couldn’t find them anywhere. We searched high and low before giving up. I used the spare key and went on my merry way. When I returned home, I placed the spare key back in its place. A little while later, hubby came to me and said, “I see you found the keys.” I had no idea what he was talking about. He said the keys were on the hutch. I was really surprised! How the heck did they get there? There was no one in the house except for my spouse while I was gone. There’s no way we could have overlooked those keys, as the hutch is small, and it isn’t crowded with items.

The second event is the strangest of my three scary stories from yesterday. We have an old friend who’s in the hospital, and I told hubby last night that we needed to go see her tomorrow, which is today now. I decided I needed to go buy her a get-well card to take with us on our visit. As I was leaving our home office last night, I noticed an old box sitting on the glass table near my computer. The box had my name on it, and I immediately recognized that it was written in my mother’s handwriting. I opened the box, and it was full of get-well cards and matching envelopes! By the way, that old friend who’s ill was one of my Mom’s best pals. There must be fifty or sixty new cards in the box. I asked hubby where he found the box of cards, and he had no idea what I was talking about. How the heck did they end up in the office? Where did they come from?

The third example of paranormal activity from yesterday happened during the night. Hubby and his dog were asleep, and the bedroom door was closed. I was in the recliner in the living room, and our two Great Danes were snoozing on the couch in the office. I heard someone or something walking down the hall. I leaned up to see if it was one of the Dane’s wanting to go out, but they were still sacked out on the leather sofa. I figured hubby’s dog needed to go out, and it was the pooch or my husband I heard walking down the hall. When he didn’t come through the living room, I got up to investigate. Hubby’s bedroom door was still closed. I’m hard of hearing, so I didn’t think anything else about this – until this morning. Hubby mentioned that he heard a dog or something walking in the hall in the middle of the night. He had gotten up to check on the noise, but he said the big dogs were asleep in the office and that I was in my chair, watching TV. We both heard something. I have no idea what or who it could have been. Are these real ghost stories? Do I live in a haunted house? I honestly don’t know.

my parents
my parents | Source

Paranormal Activity

Is there a scientific explanation for my haunted house, or have hubby and I experienced paranormal activity? Paranormal activity is defined in the dictionary as “phenomena that can’t be explained by normal scientific investigation.” What does that mean, exactly? If people living in the Middle Ages had seen a television, heard a radio, or talked on a cell phone, they’d swear that a ghost or demon was responsible. Maybe ghost sightings are just things that science doesn’t understand yet. Perhaps some sort of energy field is responsible. Perhaps they could be residual life forces. Maybe there are different dimensions or planes of existence, and when we mortals think we see ghosts, we’re just glimpsing someone’s passing from one to the other. I simply don’t have the answers.

I often laugh at myself for referring to my home as a haunted house. I wish I could tell you that my husband and I imagined these experiences, but I can’t. I can tell you this, though. I don’t drink, and I don’t use recreational drugs. I like order and logic in my world, and I don’t like for things to be “left undone” or unsolved. I like answers. Some might think of my experiences as scary stories, but I don’t find them frightening. I find them annoying and puzzling. I’d really like some logical explanations for these seemingly strange activities. If, on the other hand, ghosts really do exist, then I’m sure the entities who seem to reside here with me or at least visit from time to time are the spirits of my deceased parents. Maybe they’re angels. And, if that’s the case, I feel comforted, and I appreciate their help. In such an instance, it wouldn’t be so bad to live in a haunted house.


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