Users Scare Up 'True' Ghost Stories

Continued from page 2

The Ghost of Uncle Frank

As a military family, we moved often.

In the late 1950s, my mother, father, my sister and I were walking down a hill in San Francisco when my mother perked up with a big smile. "Frank!" she hollered, and picked up speed to meet her brother she had last seen in Philadelphia several years back.

There was no Frank at the bottom of the hill. Confused, we all went home.

The phone rang shortly after we returned to the house. Sure enough, the news was that Frank had died earlier that day in Philadelphia, about the time my mother saw him gesturing to her from that intersection in San Francisco.

Bill Mayberry
Watkinsville, Georgia

Father's Spirit Knows Best

family of cousins had moved me the day of the occurrence.

I had been in an emotionally and sometimes physically abusive relationship for about 10 years, and afraid to leave for fear of reprisals. Fortunately for me, some of my cousins are nice, big, muscular guys, and we showed up at my former home to remove the minimal number of things I considered mine.

Now, my father has been a silent partner in my life since his death; those things he speaks to me about, he does quietly, and not necessarily with a voice. During the two years preceding the move, he had gained a voice and had grown increasingly insistent about the need for me to get out. But I had only seen him once in the 24 years since his death, and that was in a dream.

One of my cousins, the one who had been, I think, closest to him, called me the next day to say that, though she had not spoken to him during the intervening years, he had appeared at the end of the bed during the early morning hours, told her "thank you," and either faded or disappeared. The incident had clearly left her shaken. Eleven years have passed since that day; my life is back on track, thanks, in part, to luck, the intervention of Christ in my life, and the love of a good man who is also a believer.

My father's voice has gone silent but still speaks to me in difficult moments. I frequently remember the clear evidence that my father is out there somewhere, and still watching.

Bill Bowers

The Haunted House I Called Home

I grew up in a haunted house in Ohio.

I saw the ghosts reach for me when I was just 4 years old. I had a poltergeist incident when I was 12. I had a breather in the bed next to me when I was in high school. And Easter of 1969, I had two women (who had both committed suicide in the house in the 1890s) come to my bedroom and ask me to "Let us Help."

I had all sorts of issues that night as well, from the regular footsteps up the stairs behind my headboard, to the breathing in the bed next to me.

To this day I don't like dark places like basements, crawlspaces, bathrooms, or stairs. But I have also recently learned that I am extra-special because I have entities attached to me.

Anonymous
Fairfax, Virginia