I believe in anything that cannot be disproven. Therefore I believe in God. I believe in extraterrestrial life. I believe in the paranormal and I believe in ghosts.
Chances are it was an elaborate scheme thought up by my parents to either entertain or scare my sister and me but we had a ghost in the house. Or at least that’s how I remember it. His name was William Henry and we discovered him through the use of an Ouija board. My sister was a year older than me and I guess my age back then was around sixteen or so. I remember my Dad drove a ’72 T-Bird at the time.
By communicating with William Henry, we learned he had fathered a daughter by the name of Miss Minnie who attended a nearby Presbyterian Church. She had been a school teacher in a neighboring township. One weekend we drove to the church to inquire about her and were given an address to check out. While at the church we drove through the cemetery and as we were getting out of the car my father started off toward the far end of it pointing while saying, “Over here.”
There was no way he could have seen a name on the headstone for it was the only one facing the wrong direction but sure enough he had led us to William Henry’s grave. Later we were headed up a long desolate gravel driveway past a mailbox identifying Miss Minnie’s home. There in the woods sat a small two story white frame house with a tin roof. A cat lay on top of the porch’s roof. Sounds of wood being chopped could be heard in the distance. No one answered the door and we eventually gave up and went home.
Weeks had passed and we had either not been interested or William Henry had been too busy for us. The next time we did make contact he informed us his daughter had passed away. A few days after that we found letters addressed to her in our mailbox. The mail had been addressed to her but it was our address on the envelopes. Unsure what to do with them, we took them back to the church and offered them to the minister who confirmed Miss Minnie had indeed died recently and was buried in their small cemetery.
None of us ever saw William Henry but there were two occasions we may have witnessed his presence. One such time we were using the Ouija board in the den adjacent to the kitchen. When asked if he was still with us a decorative glass lantern we never used alit on its own and as we stared went out just as suddenly. The game pointer stopped.
Another incident found us back in the kitchen listening to research my sister had gathered on William and whatever she had found out caused my mother to exclaim, “William Henry…you old renegade!”
As the words left her mouth there was a crash on the roof as if a giant branch had broken off one of the large oaks trees in the yard and had fallen on the roof. We ran outside to see the damage and couldn’t find any such evidence. That was the last we heard from William Henry…