tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44244300307348034602024-02-19T07:21:37.874-08:00GHOST IN THE WORLDghost in the world, ghost stories, ghost pictures, ghost is real,Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-23371205488656201302013-10-28T04:21:00.000-07:002013-10-28T04:21:09.868-07:00REAL GHOST STORY DING DONG<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 25.0pt;">REAL GHOST STORY<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 25.0pt;">“<u>DING DONG</u>”</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QvPQTpe-zYPT8O7DjeTyyPmf6XkYecXBB3DmYbEeCfkMG_e6-2MKO46K4AxqOkzQ569YpumG4Xer0dMqCNgtxO_xjeXlgUoSaT2vAKn9nkkkJfncCZ6KMZk8EEhdC2naNTkOKXZQqD7m/s1600/ding+dong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QvPQTpe-zYPT8O7DjeTyyPmf6XkYecXBB3DmYbEeCfkMG_e6-2MKO46K4AxqOkzQ569YpumG4Xer0dMqCNgtxO_xjeXlgUoSaT2vAKn9nkkkJfncCZ6KMZk8EEhdC2naNTkOKXZQqD7m/s1600/ding+dong.jpg" /></a><b><span style="color: #361700; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 15.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">As a kid, I lived in this townhouse that was built in possibly
the 1970's. When I first moved in I was about 6 years old. I remember being
excited since a townhouse is a major step from living in an apartment. Nothing
seemed to happen though until I was 7.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #361700; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 15.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">It started with me having my friend overnight for
a sleepover. We were in my mom's bed sleeping and had my toy crib in the room
too. Suddenly we noticed that the crib was higher than what it normally was. I
looked over and it was seriously like 5 centimetres off the ground. I called
for my mom but by the time my mom got in the room, the crib was no longer in
the air.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #361700; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 15.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">That was just the beginning. After that, the
doorbell to my room would randomly go off on its own. No one would be upstairs
and it would just go crazy. Even taking the batteries out, it still seemed to
go off.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #361700; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 15.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">As I got older, old enough to babysit myself, I
always felt nervous. I would always hear the front door opening and closing
making me think my mom was home but when I checked, my mom wasn't home. I
considered it to be hearing a door from the person beside me but it was just
too loud to be coming from the other townhouses considering the doors were
pretty much far apart.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #361700; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 15.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">I also always felt like I was being watched, like
something was in the room watching what I was doing. Then things would always
just move. I would put something down and when I would go back to get it not
too long after, it would be in a completely different spot such as across the
table. My mom wouldn't have moved it since she was nowhere near. My closet door
would always open on its own which really creeped me out. I've always had
anxiety over the door being opened, so it would always be closed.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #361700; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 15.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Around the age of 12 I finally got a dog. I know that
animals have these special senses so they can sense if someone else or
something is around. One time my dog suddenly started to bark and growl
viciously at this one area between the couch and the kitchen table. We had no
idea what he was barking at but he seemed to be afraid of that one area. I
picked him up and carried him to the spot to tell him nothing is wrong and he
was acting terrified and the second I put him down he ran away scared.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #361700; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 15.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">I know for sure there was something in that
townhouse because in my new house absolutely nothing has happened. Also,
apparently one of my old neighbours moved away from the townhouse complex
because they experienced similar things though they ended up coming back. My
mom also told me that when she was moving in, she had an ashtray on the coffee
table that suddenly flew across the room in mid air and just shattered long
before hitting the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #361700; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 15.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">I tried to research the history of the townhouse
complex I lived in but found absolutely nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="mso-line-height-alt: 14.95pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Source:</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 11pt;"> By: <b>Tifftardis <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-background-themecolor: background1; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 11pt;">Dated: <b>2013-10-15,</b>
<b>Country: Canada,</b> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-background-themecolor: background1; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 11pt;">Paranormal Category: <b>Haunted
Places</b></span><b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print';">.</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-38294996948834879852013-05-14T01:54:00.000-07:002013-05-19T23:17:07.072-07:00THE KILLER IN THE BACKSEAT<br />
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .25in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .25in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.25pt; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6PiduIcaJU60045qDIxKERsM4CUBgn9KRBW01IEGR2G0mYMe_QZ5Qu4ZbCqxB8E0WtppmGKlfgV1PoBzwkq_LhAYTbszqNNSiwlovw0NTPVDe6tLMd-OIm4vJ2Jli78US42UxTiXNCHEE/s1600/THE+KILLER+IN+THE+BACKSEAT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6PiduIcaJU60045qDIxKERsM4CUBgn9KRBW01IEGR2G0mYMe_QZ5Qu4ZbCqxB8E0WtppmGKlfgV1PoBzwkq_LhAYTbszqNNSiwlovw0NTPVDe6tLMd-OIm4vJ2Jli78US42UxTiXNCHEE/s320/THE+KILLER+IN+THE+BACKSEAT.jpg" width="320" /></a><b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;">One night a woman went
out for drinks with her girlfriends. She left the bar fairly late at night, got
in her car and onto the deserted highway. After a few minutes she noticed a
lone pair of headlights in her rear view mirror, approaching at a pace just slightly
quicker than hers. As the car pulled up behind her she glanced and saw the turn
signal on the car was going to pass when suddenly it swerved back behind her,
pulled up dangerously close to her tailgate and the bright flashed.</span></b></b></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 0.25in 0in; text-align: justify; text-decoration: inherit;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Now
she was getting nervous. The lights dimmed for a moment and then the brights
came back on and the car behind her surged forward. The frightened woman
struggled to keep her eyes on the road and fought the urge to look at the car
behind her. Finally, her exit approached but the car continued to follow,
flashing the brights periodically.</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 0.25in 0in; text-align: justify; text-decoration: inherit;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Through
every stoplight and turn, it followed her until she pulled into her driveway.
She figured her only hope was to make a mad dash into the house and call the
police. As she flew from the car, so did the driver of the car behind her — and
he screamed, "Lock the door and call the police! Call 911!"</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 0.25in 0in; text-align: justify; text-decoration: inherit;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;">When
the police arrived the horrible truth was finally revealed to the woman. The
man in the car had been trying to save her. As he pulled up behind her and his
headlights illuminated her car, he saw the silhouette of a man with a butcher
knife rising up from the back seat to stab her, so he flashed his brights and
the figure crouched back down.</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 0.25in 0in; text-align: justify; text-decoration: inherit;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;">The
moral of the story: Always check the back seat!</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 0.25in 0in; text-align: justify; text-decoration: inherit;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>
<b><div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Analysis:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>In another common variant of
this legend, the imperiled female (and it's<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>always</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>a female, please note) pulls into a
gas station and is frightened by the odd behavior of the attendant, who keeps
trying to get her to leave the car and join him in the office. It turns out he
has glimpsed a knife-wielding murderer in the backseat and is trying to save
her life!</span></b></div>
</b></div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 0.25in 0in; text-align: justify; text-decoration: inherit;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Folklorists have traced
the legend back to the 1960s and believe it may have been inspired by a vaguely
similar real event in 1964 involving the discovery by a New York City policeman
of an escaped murderer hiding in the backseat of his (the cop's) own car.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 0.25in 0in; text-align: justify; text-decoration: inherit;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 18.0pt;">"The Killer in the
Backseat" was among the legendary horror stories dramatized in the 1998
film<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Urban Legend</i>. Let us
not assume, however, that real-life evildoers never lie in wait for their
victims in the backseats of vehicles. As reported in the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Decatur Daily News</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>on September 14, 2007, a female
college student in Alabama was threatened by a man with a gun who popped up
suddenly in the backseat of her SUV. She escaped, fortunately, by slamming on
the brakes and bolting from the car.</span></b></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-52537073597089161902012-11-23T01:49:00.001-08:002012-11-23T01:49:44.913-08:00GHOST STORY LYDIA'S BRIDGE<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 16.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 3.0pt; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 16pt;"><u><span style="color: red;">GHOST STORY LYDIA'S
BRIDGE</span></u><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__UHIvojPgxLnU5ps3tulSXpoFsoPOqk2xxDBIyj1DOUbBktZKrX4K7Yn1itlEaxhs29IYGSxvTtl6Tx5_ZCi9zFlqPKLvW6RJfKeEYcjttZGgfkuNj0b8SqrCsQ1-70zw8x7BnGOM8f5/s1600/070928092627_Lydia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__UHIvojPgxLnU5ps3tulSXpoFsoPOqk2xxDBIyj1DOUbBktZKrX4K7Yn1itlEaxhs29IYGSxvTtl6Tx5_ZCi9zFlqPKLvW6RJfKeEYcjttZGgfkuNj0b8SqrCsQ1-70zw8x7BnGOM8f5/s320/070928092627_Lydia.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Phantom hitchhiker stories are not
uncommon. Most entail someone driving on a road or highway when they come upon
a person walking along side, flagging them down for a ride. A kind person might
stop to lend a helping hand only to discover the hitchhiker has disappeared.
The story of Lydia is no different.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
The legend begins in late December 1923 (the 23rd or 31st depending on who you
talk to). Lydia was leaving a dance in Raleigh, North Carolina, some say with
her date, on her way home. It was raining and she lost control of the car and
hit the Southern Railroad Underpass Bridge. In one version, her date died instantly
while Lydia attempted to get help and succumbed to her injuries on the side of
the road. The other has her dying instantly in the car accident. Is there any
truth to the story? It seems there might be.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Back in the 1920s, car accidents weren’t an everyday occurrence as they are
today. So, you would think finding records of a girl dying in such a manner
would be easy to locate. It seems a person has come across what is believed to
be Lydia’s death certificate. It states a Lydia Jane M****** (I know the alleged
last name but chose not to publish it here) died December 31, 1923 from “fatal
injuries from a motoring accident”. Is it the same Lydia from the legend? It’s
unknown but certainly, won’t help to disprove the stories.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Of course, I saved the most interesting part for last. This is a phantom
hitchhiker story after all. There have been many reports since 1924 of
motorists picking up a young woman in a white dress along US Highway 70. The
driver, who is frequently male and alone in the car, spots her walking along
the road and stops to help her. She usually gets in to the backseat of the car,
gives her name as Lydia and an address to her home. In previous versions, Lydia
was riding home with her beau at the time of the accident. However, in some
reports, Lydia discusses an argument she had with her beau during the drive.
Once the driver arrives at the address, they goes around the car to open her
door only to find she has disappeared.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJNoX9qwX4vSFSHXPcfwrBJVPMVscNAv1Xe6-6RapY7IbL2-fuVqDR_qoH9RqNWuYClZfoG7p-zQ7uM90rg8CHI5a9rdN14jazqFozMgtBQrDe8xUrgFzXKFu2M6T77_Zy2lSyKS6K_4x/s1600/scary-stories.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJNoX9qwX4vSFSHXPcfwrBJVPMVscNAv1Xe6-6RapY7IbL2-fuVqDR_qoH9RqNWuYClZfoG7p-zQ7uM90rg8CHI5a9rdN14jazqFozMgtBQrDe8xUrgFzXKFu2M6T77_Zy2lSyKS6K_4x/s400/scary-stories.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
The driver then goes to the door of the house and proceeds to knock in an
effort to make sure the young lady is safe inside (sometimes an article of
clothing is left in the car waiting to be returned). An elderly woman explains
to the person she is Lydia’s mother and when her daughter died. Shows photos of
her and goes on to verify the story.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Lydia’s Bridge isn’t a bridge at all. It is actually a culvert covered in
vegetation to carry railroad tracks over a dry steam bed and is no longer in
use. Many have mistaken (correct me if I’m wrong readers) the nearby bridge
known as the “Graffiti Bridge” to be hers. There are several other paranormal
accounts associated with the actual Lydia’s Bridge. Some have witnessed a pale
woman standing just past the bridge, heard screams and had feelings of being
watched.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For more information and photos go to <a href="http://www.hauntednc.com/legends_lydiasbridge.htm"><span style="color: #3366cc;">Haunted North Carolina Paranormal Research and
Investigations</span></a>.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-87417546109136259042012-11-23T01:35:00.000-08:002012-11-23T01:35:10.562-08:00GHOST STORY CHERNOBYL<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 3.0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 16.8pt; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: red;"><u>GHOST STORY CHERNOBYL</u></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEF58V37WNGgExux_tMz89VsaJoJADxheEjSlWBHm0ssIWN9Gugn__xf4MdRtHtyCYe4EmDY5xT7SI-sQIAzILsv7JKSVEAh2MmYaDPR0Crb8obgQcR0Wj_Swx9F9HhuQll8inAdkQsatb/s1600/chernobyl_big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEF58V37WNGgExux_tMz89VsaJoJADxheEjSlWBHm0ssIWN9Gugn__xf4MdRtHtyCYe4EmDY5xT7SI-sQIAzILsv7JKSVEAh2MmYaDPR0Crb8obgQcR0Wj_Swx9F9HhuQll8inAdkQsatb/s400/chernobyl_big.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Chernobyl Power Plant located
outside the town of Pripyat, Ukraine (11 miles from the city of Chernobyl)
began construction in the 1970s with the first reactor. Over the next few years
three more reactors were added and two more were in the middle of construction
at the time of the disaster. On April 26, 1986 at 1:23 a.m., the no. 4 reactor
was shut down for maintenance. An experiment was being performed to test a
safety emergency core cooling feature during the shutdown procedure. It's
uncertain as to what exact processes led to the explosions but a disruption in
regulation seem to be a part of it.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
The first explosion was that of steam. Steam from the wrecked channels entered
the reactor inner space that caused the destruction of the reactor casing,
tearing off and lifting by the force of 2,000 tons the upper plate. This
ruptured further fuel channels, the reactor core suffered total water loss and
a high positive void coefficient could entirely appear.The second explosions
occurred seconds after the first. Some theorized the second explosion was
caused by the hydrogen which had been produced either by the overheated
steam-zirconium reaction or by the reaction of red-hot graphite with steam that
produce hydrogen and oxygen. Others believed it was more nuclear or a thermal
explosion of the reactor as a result of the uncontrollable escape of fast
neutrons, caused by the complete water loss in the reactor core. Either way it
was considered the worst nuclear power plant disaster in history. The fallout
released was four times more than the atomic bombing of Hiroshima.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
The explosions caused a chain reaction. The fire in Reactor 4 burned until May
10th, 1986 before it was finally extinguished thanks to Helicopters dropping
sand and lead as well as injecting liquid nitrogen in to it. Radioactive
particles were released in to the air. Smoke and wind carried it in to the
nearby town as well as across international borders. Most of the radioactive
fallout landed in Belarus. Light nuclear rain fell as far as Ireland. Over
336,000 people were evacuated. 600,000 people were exposed to radiation. Two
people died in the initial steam explosion, but fifty-six people (47 accident
workers and 9 children with thyroid cancer) directly died due to the disaster.
There were as many as 4,000 cancer related deaths from those exposed to
radiation. The nearby pine forest turned ginger brown and died earning the name
"Red Forest". Horses left behind during the evacuation died due to
destroyed thyroid glands. Some cattle also died but of those that survived,
suffered stunted growth due to thyroid damage. Wild animals in the worst-hit
areas either died or stopped reproducing.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
After the disaster, all work on reactors 5 and 6 halted. Reactor 4 was sealed
off with 660ft of concrete placed between the disaster site and operational
buildings. A fire broke out in the turbine building of reactor 2 in 1991. It
was declared beyond repair and shut down. Reactor 1 was decommissioned in
November 1996 as part of a deal between the Ukrainian government and
international organizations such as the IAEA. Then-President Leonid Kuchma
personally turned off Reactor 3 in an official ceremony on December 15, 2000,
shutting down the plant entirely.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
The accident led to alleged governmental cover-ups and ghost towns. Pripyat has
become somewhat a wildlife reserve. Most of those who were evacuated never came
back. About 400 people were allowed to resettle in the Excursion Zone as along
as they never request money or aid if they become ill. Since 2002, tours are
provided for all those who want to see the infamous site.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Some believe aliens were involved with the disaster. Witnesses claimed to have
seen a UFO hovering above the plant for six hours during the accident. Three
years later, a Doctor Gospina stated he saw an "amber-like" object
above the plant. A year after that, a reporter photographed an object similar
to the one Gospina described hovering above the disaster site.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
A creature known as the Black Bird of Chernobyl was also sighted days leading
up to the disaster. It is described as a large black, bird like creature or a
headless man with a 20 foot wingspan, and red eyes. It has been compared to
that of the Mothman in Point Pleasant, West Virginia. This creature has not
been seen since the disaster. People experienced horrific nightmares,
threatening phone calls and first-hand encounters with the winged-beast. Did
they really see an unknown creature or was it something out of nature such as
the black stork? We may never know.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
The Pripyat, the Chernobyl worker town, is believed to be haunted. People have
had the feeling of being watched when walking past the city hospital.
Considering it looks like the aftermath of an apocalypse, that feeling may be
anything but supernatural. Apparitions and shadows are often seen. Some have
even reported being touched. But could the spirits of its victims be roaming
the affected areas? We'll find out on Wednesday during the first paranormal
investigation of Chernobyl.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-67832328307428970402012-11-23T01:26:00.001-08:002012-11-23T01:27:25.333-08:00GHOST STORY CLINTON ROAD<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Lucida Handwriting';"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">GHOST
STORY CLINTON ROAD</span><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dyh1r3cC4QyhZdzcoMfRNxo78NiJMxMjNYBWWdLnvmIhVP469ocgIACsRCzeHiPM_L16RsOKVshIwjme-lo-Rd1ZUAzNx4CmaNoJB3K0aK_30Qx9jYNIZ3esJae4vogGY79vmaGOK3o9/s1600/LINTON+ROAD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dyh1r3cC4QyhZdzcoMfRNxo78NiJMxMjNYBWWdLnvmIhVP469ocgIACsRCzeHiPM_L16RsOKVshIwjme-lo-Rd1ZUAzNx4CmaNoJB3K0aK_30Qx9jYNIZ3esJae4vogGY79vmaGOK3o9/s400/LINTON+ROAD.jpg" width="400" /></a><b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What elements does a road need to be
labeled genuinely creepy? Isolated area? Thick forest on both sides? A dark
history? Clinton Road in West Milford, New Jersey certainly would qualify. This
ten mile stretch of curves and dips makes you feel like you’re millions of
miles from civilization. Clinton Road along with the reservoir and brook
received its name from the settlement Clinton, once located where it crosses
the brook. The KKK and Satanists have all been known to worship in places near
it. The woods next to Clinton Road was also the site of serial killer dumping
ground. Richard “The Iceman” Kuklinski was a mob hitman who claimed to have
murdered over hundreds of people but the one found near Clinton Road led to his
1986 arrest. The legends attached to the road attracts and terrifies all those
who attempt to drive on it.</span></b></b></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 17px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 25px;"><br /></span></div>
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In 1905, a writer warned travelers to avoid the road due to reports of banditry
and witchcraft. This was one of the earlier reports but certainly not the last.
There are still stories of local cannibals. If you’re driving along the road
and come to a fallen tree blocking your path, you must turn around immediately
or you will be trapped and eaten.</span></b></div>
</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 17px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 25px;"><br /></span></div>
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One of the well known stories is of a boy at Dead Man’s Curve. He supposedly
was playing on a bridge nearby and fell to his death on the jagged rocks below.
They say his ghost haunts the spot. If you toss a coin over the edge of the
bridge, it’ll be tossed back at you. Another report states the little boy tries
to push visitors over the railing. Other ghost stories include a girl driving a
phantom Camaro. She supposedly died in a fatal car crash in 1988 and if you
mention of this story while driving at night, you risk triggering a
manifestation. There are also reports of a phantom truck either white or red
who chases people off the road. Some people claimed to have seen two park
rangers who allegedly died on the job in 1939 while camping.</span></b></div>
</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 17px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 25px;"><br /></span></div>
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There are even reports of strange creatures seen on or beside the road. From
hellhounds to unidentified hybrids, they are believed to be the survivors of
Jungle Habitat, a nearby attraction that has been closed since 1976, who
supposedly was responsible for crossbreeding local animals with wild animals.
When the animal attraction closed, rumors state a lot of these animals were
released into the local woods instead of being transported to another facility.
Some claim the infamous Jersey Devil has made an appearance once or twice.</span></b></div>
</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 17px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 25px;"><br /></span></div>
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">These are but only a handful of eyewitness accounts and stories told about
Clinton Road. Does any of them hold a degree of truth? Or is this simply a road
with a bad reputation?</span></b></div>
</b></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-64522469385491142052012-11-18T21:28:00.003-08:002012-11-18T21:28:58.301-08:00SHORT GHOST STORIES<br />
<h1 align="center" style="background: white; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>SHORT GHOST STORIES</u></span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></h1>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqHxstkQPtThkxSbTwxGhK-hVCQL2yyB40mWmJuULhtV8njKaDvQbcOpH-4Yv6IDovcvoknQiMUm1lt2yJ41Pucj7CcEtPoUO5Lbz22qtIT3HMojL4BY1JePS1AqdRMgq46hO5GHVIfMo/s1600/ghost-stories3.s600x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqHxstkQPtThkxSbTwxGhK-hVCQL2yyB40mWmJuULhtV8njKaDvQbcOpH-4Yv6IDovcvoknQiMUm1lt2yJ41Pucj7CcEtPoUO5Lbz22qtIT3HMojL4BY1JePS1AqdRMgq46hO5GHVIfMo/s320/ghost-stories3.s600x600.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Telling short ghost stories to
children, especially little children, is a little different then telling a
ghost story to a group of teenagers or adults.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tips for Telling Ghost Stories to
Kids</span></b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">You have to make sure your story is appropriate for all audience
members. If you have even one audience member who will be plagued by nightmares
for weeks by your retelling of great ghost stories like Bloody Mary, then you
will have to substitute something else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Children's ghost stories have to be a little shorter, with a
minimum of characters so that kids can easily follow the plotline.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Make sure to have all the kids gather in a circle, either by the
fire or in your cozy living room. Turn down all the lights and hold a
flashlight under your chin to illuminate your face as you tell the tale.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Speak slowly and use your best loud whisper, so your little
audience is straining to hear every word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It helps if you have the story memorized. Don't be afraid to
personalize it; tell the kids it happened down the street, in this very house
or in the woods nearby.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Kids appreciate body language, so act out someone tiptoeing up
the stairs or use props and other items to create sound effects.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Here is a good child-friendly story
that has been retold in many forms. It is just a little spooky, so it will
generate shivers without leaving anyone too scared to go to bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Inn at the End of the Lane<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A mom and her daughter were preparing
to leave for a trip to visit a small coastal town. As the pair left, they
noticed that the sky was darkening; it looked like they were driving into a
storm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">During the drive, it started to rain. At first, it was a light
rain, but suddenly, the raindrops turned into a deluge. The windshield wipers
couldn't keep up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thunder cracked and lightning
flashed. The mom decided that they should pull over somewhere and wait until
the storm ended. Unfortunately, they were in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly,
the daughter spied an inn up ahead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They pulled into the parking lot of a
cozy farmhouse. After parking in the curiously empty parking lot, they grabbed
their suitcases and rushed to the front porch. A kind-looking innkeeper opened
the door and invited them in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Settled into warm, dry rooms they
soon fell asleep. They awoke the next morning to sunshine and the sounds of
birds singing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As they walked downstairs, they
noticed that the inn was deserted. Since they had to get back on the road, they
left money and a note on a table, thanking the innkeeper for his
hospitality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">After driving a few miles, they
stopped to get gas. At the gas station, they started chatting with the gas
station attendant. "You didn't happen to drive through that terrible
storm last night, did you?" asked the attendant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"As a matter of fact, we
did," replied the mother. "Fortunately, we were able to spend the
night at that charming inn a few miles back."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The attendant turned and looked at
them. "You don't mean the farmhouse back up the road?" he asked,
looking puzzled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Why, yes!" replied the
girl<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"That's impossible," the
man said slowly. "That's the old Davis Inn. It burned down last
winter."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.6pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Not believing the man, they drove
back and saw for themselves. There was nothing left of the inn but a charred,
roofless ruin. Stepping from their car and through the missing front door, they
were shocked to see their thank-you note still sitting on the burnt remains of
a table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-75506618554716949832012-11-17T21:11:00.000-08:002012-11-17T21:11:06.597-08:00INTERTWINED: BASED ON A TRUE STORY<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFlFV73nz6zbYYCij0honmvaPY_VWYgSksfXjT8aiiKcpWh9f_x2JqcTWu6qJn8pjJkSijTGxKkzQh476JSrYnucTGgwvJZauwHKn790i1YFApJb3GQPudHKtr73IAoRM72BNFMYE3JM3/s1600/tumblr_ma5hceIWWl1qcwr85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFlFV73nz6zbYYCij0honmvaPY_VWYgSksfXjT8aiiKcpWh9f_x2JqcTWu6qJn8pjJkSijTGxKkzQh476JSrYnucTGgwvJZauwHKn790i1YFApJb3GQPudHKtr73IAoRM72BNFMYE3JM3/s640/tumblr_ma5hceIWWl1qcwr85.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 3.0pt; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>INTERTWINED: BASED ON A TRUE STORY</u></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">These are the first few
paragraphs of my book, </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Intertwined: Based on a True Story. The facts stated in these paragraphs truly
happened to me. Sometimes you have no choice but to believe. Jules V.
Ness <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
I woke with such a start that my body had automatically bolted itself into an
upright position. For some reason, unknown to me, I had an overwhelming feeling
that I was being observed. Even though my eyes were still blurry from sleep and
not quite cooperating, I frantically searched the immediate area surrounding my
bed. I felt a sudden stab in my gut as I realized someone truly was there,
standing at the very foot of my bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
I flung my hand out sideways in the darkness towards my bedside table. I was
desperately searching for my eyeglasses that I had left lying there just a few
hours earlier. Without them or my contact lenses, what I thought I was
visualizing as a person could easily have been my bathrobe dangling innocently
from the six foot tall post at the end of my bed. As I searched blindly in the
dark, I felt them for just an instant, barely brushing them with my fingertips.
The force was just enough to send them whirling off of the night stand and
spinning across the wooden floor. So much for that, my only choice now was to
squint like a mole and try to make out whom, if anyone, was truly there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Concentrating to focus, I was able to make out the figure; it appeared to be a
woman. She was wearing a brightly flowered dress with a brown tattered work
coat over it. It reminded me of the ones we used to wear on our family farm
during my childhood years. The woman was staring at me in an odd sort of a way.
Her head was slightly quirked to one side. My heart was pounding so hard in my
chest that I could hear the echo of each beat inside of my head. But then, even
in my half blind state, I began to notice the warm soft smile on the woman’s face.
I squinted a little harder. She seemed vaguely familiar to me. My brain shifted
into overdrive racing through all my past and present trying to sort out a name
that I could place with this face. Suddenly, I realized who was standing there!
Oh my God, it was my mother!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
I had not recognized her in those first waking moments, only because she no
longer looked pale and ravished as she had the last time I saw her. She
appeared quite youthful, vibrant and full of love; exactly as she had been
before the cancer had attacked her young body at twenty eight years of age. Mom
died twenty two years ago slowly and painfully, one pound at a time. She was
thirty years old, the exact age that I am now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-41446081162427969182012-11-17T21:04:00.001-08:002012-11-17T21:05:15.994-08:00THE HAUNTING OF KANAKA PETE THE AXE MURDERER<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 16.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 3.0pt; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt;">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>THE HAUNTING OF KANAKA PETE THE AXE MURDERER<o:p></o:p></u></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9pt;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>THE FOLLOWING STORY WAS SUBMITTED BY LOUISE:</u></span></b><b><span style="color: red; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhld7AZKqESAuijC8xqkphuM67PuyiptGzSWQhdps5wl_0EUkhg3-z2qCypdcpA39DmYZAFRVCIynQXNxkCqs2GDjaz2m9zDRuEqR3dV3cVM70dSG1wnd3RL5phXZWnX_M9G4AN1NALzsUR/s1600/the+wicked.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhld7AZKqESAuijC8xqkphuM67PuyiptGzSWQhdps5wl_0EUkhg3-z2qCypdcpA39DmYZAFRVCIynQXNxkCqs2GDjaz2m9zDRuEqR3dV3cVM70dSG1wnd3RL5phXZWnX_M9G4AN1NALzsUR/s640/the+wicked.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 19px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 19.2pt;"> I was recently browsing the internet and came across the story of Kanaka Pete
at <a href="http://www.kanakapete.com/"><span style="color: #3366cc; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">www.kanakapete.com</span></a>. This brought back a
personal experience I had with Kanaka Pete. I would like to share it with you.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
In the fall of 2007 I was attending University in Nanaimo BC, Canada. A few
weeks before Halloween my boyfriend and I took the guided, haunted tour of
Nanaimo. During the tour we heard the story of Kanaka Pete.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Kanaka Pete was a big Hawaiian that lived in Nanaimo with his native wife and
their infant daughter. In 1867, after a night of drinking, Kanaka Pete returned
home to find his wife’s parents in his home and his wife told him she was
leaving him. Pete left and got totally intoxicated. He returned around midnight
to find his Father-in-law in the act of adultery (incest) with Pete’s wife,
while the Mother-in-law watched and the baby lay beside them. In a drunken fit
of rage Pete grabbed an axe and did not stop swinging until his wife, her
parents and his daughter were all chopped into pieces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
He fled to Newcastle Island where he was hunted down and captured. After a
rushed trial he was hung. He vowed he would return and have vengeance. This
scared the locals to the point that neither the Europeans or Natives wanted him
buried on their land. He was taken to Newcastle Island, a former smallpox
colony that was uninhabited and they buried him in a makeshift, unmarked grave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Our tour guide told us that his evil spirit still lurks the far side of
Newcastle Island looking for revenge and to never be on the far side of
Newcastle Island after dark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
This was the most interesting of all the ghost stories we heard that night. My
boyfriend and I thought it would be real exciting to go camping on Newcastle
Island the following Saturday, especially because it was close to Halloween
with the thrill of maybe finding out more about Kanaka Pete.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
When we got to the Island we saw signs saying no camping beyond this point. We
spoke with one old timer there and were told that for our safety it was
dangerous to camp past the signs. He told us spirits that have unfinished
business still roam near their graves and that Kanaka Pete is confined to a
certain area of the Island.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
We set up our camp on the safe side. While we were camping we saw some people
in kayaks heading towards the far side of the Island. We never saw them return.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Before dark we took a little hike part way on the far side of the Island. We
came across the body of a dead rabbit with it's head chopped off. It looked as
though it had just happened. That was really freaky as we did not see anyone
around there. We headed straight back to camp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
When we took the little ferry over to Newcastle it was a calm sunny day During
the night it got cloudy and the winds came up making it even spookier. The
winds became very high and the night air became chilling cold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
During the night we started to hear some of the scariest noises. Shortly after
we went into our tent for the night we thought we heard a scream coming from
the far side of the Island. This really spooked us. Not too long after that we
heard more terrifying screaming followed by the sound of chopping. This
happened many times throughout the night. It was the most terrifying thing we
had ever heard. We wanted to leave the Island but the little ferry would not be
back until morning. We were chilled to the bone with fright. Shortly after
midnight we heard what sounded like a fierce demonic roar and more screaming
followed by violent chopping then the most eerie laughter. Needless to say we
spent the entire night huddled together scared to death. We tried calling on
our cell phones but we had no reception all through the night, we had reception
earlier in the day and the next morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Before that night I did not believe in ghosts and thought ghost stories were
fun and amusing but after my experience that has now changed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
That was the most frightening and horrific night of my life. I believe there is
something very evil on the far side of that Island, we could feel it and we did
hear it! I will never forget that cold October night on Newcastle Island and I
believe to this day the ghost of the evil axe murder Kanaka Pete was near by.
If we would have ignored the warning signs and camped on the far side of the
Island that night I feel we would never have returned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-6913838618377320852012-11-17T20:54:00.002-08:002012-11-17T20:54:40.660-08:00GHOST STORY Paranormal Veteran Gives Warning To Para-Newbies<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: red;">GHOST STORY<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: red;">Paranormal Veteran
Gives Warning To Para-Newbies<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: red;">By Sandra J Wells</span><span style="color: #333333;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUNr_BmFUy5dNVVNJcmH7eYnIn0zoLuPAR7wkrzlnkZLiz8xdU41w9b1_nIY1AMBrHnfMqexCj0ANYHKf9olhKGzP_8AXjgIOV7WgwHLIxDiq6oqshksQCszAqwFhbSgkdWP7_PQCRLsVv/s1600/para_activity2_oct10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUNr_BmFUy5dNVVNJcmH7eYnIn0zoLuPAR7wkrzlnkZLiz8xdU41w9b1_nIY1AMBrHnfMqexCj0ANYHKf9olhKGzP_8AXjgIOV7WgwHLIxDiq6oqshksQCszAqwFhbSgkdWP7_PQCRLsVv/s640/para_activity2_oct10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> After doing paranormal research and
investigations for thirty years I have seen and experienced enough to write
endless books about ghosts and the afterlife. However, there is another side of
this research that never gets talked about. That is the long term effects that
being touched by the energy of ghosts can cause. Sure we talk about what we
experienced, if we caught any great evidence and the location itself but this
one subject just never seems to come up in the conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When I watch the paranormal TV shows
I cringe when I see those people challenging ghosts to touch them. I often wonder
if they take all precautions that are available to them to protect their own
energy from harm. The closer we come to the energy of ghosts the more it
affects us not only spiritually but physically as well. Obviously no one can
avoid being touched by the energy of ghosts when it is something we can not
see. Most investigators would tell you that is a risk they are willing to take.
However, there are ways to protect our own energy and many just never use it.
It surprises me when these new investigators ignore these simple steps using
the mind set that nothing could ever happen to them and they become excited
when they experience that energy sensation of being touched. Unfortunately,
they still are not looking at the bigger picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Over the last decade or so there has
been an explosion of interest in the paranormal; not that it is a bad thing at
all. My concern comes when I see these new ghost hunters do a few
investigations for six months or so then proclaim themselves to be experts.
Those who have been in this research for as long as I have understand that it
is not all about the evidence you capture but what we truly understand about
the afterlife and its affects on the living.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I have seen so many of those same
veteran ghost hunters dying and becoming very ill. I truly believe that because
of our familiarity of the energy of ghosts we encounter we often times find
ourselves forgetting that one thing that is most important; protection. Soon
they find themselves having serious health issues for no apparent reason and
possibly having their lives turned upside down. If you asked any paranormal
veteran if they had been affected at some point I would say that at least 75%
of them would agree that in can be a very real possibility. Can I guarantee
that protecting ourselves before entering a haunted location will actually
work? No of course I cannot. There are no guarantees in this life nor does
anyone have all the answers. I can only speak from personal experiences of my
own plus for others who also have tested this theory for themselves. Have I
experienced any affects like I have been talking about? Yes I have. From tried
and true experiences that I have gathered over the last three decades I found
that when I was diligent about protecting my energy this did not occur as
frequently as when I did not. It is vital that all paranormal investigators
take this seriously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">If you believe that because you have investigated the
paranormal for a couple years and nothing has happened to you as yet then I
wish you the best in your endeavors; because it will. No investigator has all
the answers to these affects and if you doubt what I am telling you I truly
hope that someday you do not find out that I was right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-3780841696556770892012-11-17T20:48:00.001-08:002012-11-17T20:48:14.344-08:00GHOST STORY "GRANNIE FEBRUARY"<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21pt;">GHOST STORY </span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21pt;">"GRANNIE FEBRUARY"</span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMv0eNEgL8QhjqDHWj5OzdfAvKC58blFiJHvb_iii6l9TqSgJH68SOKU539HlJGFGHtyyzBFibyZC0_kNmrwwFZ2fqt9VKnIR6riTveVUefIbo-afD-iu5_HCrGDAWMD97lEC2wZkki65x/s1600/IMG_4800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMv0eNEgL8QhjqDHWj5OzdfAvKC58blFiJHvb_iii6l9TqSgJH68SOKU539HlJGFGHtyyzBFibyZC0_kNmrwwFZ2fqt9VKnIR6riTveVUefIbo-afD-iu5_HCrGDAWMD97lEC2wZkki65x/s400/IMG_4800.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Mistaken identity seems to be a common problem among the
paranormal along with inaccurate information. There is a local legend in
Elizabethton, Tennessee which falls in to this category.</span></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
It is said Grannie February haunts the Highland Cemetery. She is seen,
sometimes on Halloween, wandering the grounds or heard rocking in her rocking
chair. Problem is Grannie February a.k.a. Nannie February is not buried in the
mausoleum containing the rocking chair. However, this is not a common case of
wrong gravesite. Let’s start at the beginning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Nannie was born in 1838 and married Isaac T. February in 1885. She became a
widow at the turn of the century. Her reputation among her neighborhood
ventured on a day and night scenario. Many described her as being generous.
Nannie invited local kids to play her piano. Her fingers were often stained
from breaking open walnuts and digging in her flower bed. She also possessed a
fondness for Cadillacs even though it’s not known whether or not she ever drove
any of the ones she leased.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Local teens claimed she allegedly practiced witchcraft. Why start such rumors?
Supposedly, the answer lies with one of her routines. She often took a shortcut
through Highland Cemetery, passed the Old African American cemetery, to
retrieve milk from the local dairy. From time to time, Nannie stopped at her
husband’s grave for a chat. I’m not certain that would be enough to accuse a
person of witchcraft. However, with kids as the accusers, I guess it is
possible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Nannie died during the Depression and was buried next to her husband in a
mausoleum. Nannie February sparked a legend. Nannie Crow (sp?) Brister’s death
transformed it. She loved rocking in her rocking chair so much her family
placed the chair in the mausoleum (located near Nannie February) where she was
buried. It is this rocking chair many claim to hear and see rocking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thanks to vandals, the family removed the rocking chair
and padlocked the door shut. Nannie February’s mausoleum is also sealed shut.
It is uncertain whether or not the paranormal activity continues.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
WARNING: Signs are posted. In Tennessee, it is illegal to be in a cemetery
after sunset unless you have family buried there. Some cemeteries don’t allow
ANYONE to be there after sunset. DO NOT TRESPASS! You will be arrested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-24006040257714837892012-11-17T20:39:00.002-08:002012-11-17T20:39:44.971-08:00Happy St. Patrick's Day!<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">Happy St.
Patrick's Day!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4krvSXewdbfb5kVkM-7_TJCu6edkBgEFqch-1fxWWB_NgVi9RV18QBnOybP_lRPkzel4lo740i4WcSk05Y-6LfolVXIRRAdUixPD-60e3wUSVhfG-n1Bh56n8Qg-9XbgEpQFSgpx-eugY/s1600/padbannr.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="56" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4krvSXewdbfb5kVkM-7_TJCu6edkBgEFqch-1fxWWB_NgVi9RV18QBnOybP_lRPkzel4lo740i4WcSk05Y-6LfolVXIRRAdUixPD-60e3wUSVhfG-n1Bh56n8Qg-9XbgEpQFSgpx-eugY/s320/padbannr.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Print'; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: FrankRuehl; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">St. Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland and
one of Christianity's most widely known figures. Despite his popularity, a lot
of what is known about him is false thanks to hundreds of years of exaggerated
storytelling, that includes the story about him banishing the snakes from
Ireland. The story was actually a metaphor for the eradication of pagan
ideology from Ireland and the triumph of Christianity. Near the end of the
fourth century, St. Patrick was born in Britain to wealthy parents and is
believed to have died on March 17, 460 A.D.</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: FrankRuehl; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: FrankRuehl; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
At the age of sixteen, Patrick was taken prisoner by a group of Irish raiders
who were attacking his family's estate. They transported him to Ireland where
he spent six years in captivity. There is some dispute as to where he was kept
captive. Many believe he was taken to Mount Slemish in County Antrim, but it's
more likely that he was held in County Mayo near Killala. During this time, he
worked as a shepherd, outdoors and away from people. Lonely and afraid, he
turned to religion for comfort and became a devout Christian. It is also
believed that at this time Patrick first began dreaming to convert the Irish to
Christianity.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: FrankRuehl; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Patrick escaped after more than six years of being a prisoner. His writings
stated that a voice which he believe to be God spoke to him in a dream telling
him it was time for him to leave Ireland. In order to do this, he walked 200
miles County Mayo, where he was aid to have been kept as a prisoner, to the
Irish coast. After escaping to Britain, Patrick reported that he experienced a
second revelation-an angel in a dream tells him to return to Ireland as a
missionary. Soon after, Patrick began religious training that lasted over
fifteen years. After his ordination as a priest, he was sent to Ireland with a
dual mission-to minister to Christians already living in Ireland and to begin
to convert the Irish.<br />
<br />
Familiar with Irish language and culture, Patrick incorporated traditional
ritual into his lessons of Christianity instead of attempting to eradicate native
Irish beliefs. For example, he used bonfires to celebrate Easter since the
Irish were used to honoring their gods with fire. He superimposed a sun, a
powerful Irish symbol, onto the Christian cross to create what is now called a
Celtic cross, so that veneration of the symbol would seem more natural to the
Irish. He used the shamrock to explain the Trinity. He used it in his sermons
to represent how the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit could all exist as
separate elements of the same entity.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: FrankRuehl; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
The first St. Patrick's Day parade took place not in Ireland but in New York
City on March 17, 1762. Along with their music, the parade helped the Irish
soldiers to reconnect with their roots, as well as fellow Irishmen serving in
the English army. However, the first time St. Patrick's Day was publicly
celebrated in America was in Boston in 1737. In modern-day Ireland, St.
Patrick's Day has traditionally been a religious occasion. In fact, up until
the 1970s, Irish laws mandated that pubs be closed on March 17. Beginning in
1995, however, the Irish government began a national campaign to use St.
Patrick's Day as an opportunity to drive tourism and showcase Ireland to the
rest of the world.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: FrankRuehl; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
I hope everyone has a wonderful St. Patrick's Day. If you're planning on drinking,
please do it responsibly.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: FrankRuehl; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Source: </span></b><b><u><span style="color: #3366cc; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: FrankRuehl; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The History
Channel</span></u></b><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: FrankRuehl; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-11744136121029047132012-11-07T20:52:00.000-08:002012-11-07T20:52:25.943-08:00WHITE LADY ROAD GHOST STORY<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">GHOST STORY<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“WHITE LADY ROAD</span></u></b><b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">”</span></u></b><b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfspBWPIjC7wzvyUbwINq83sWYF4MpsCQ5RWQF8rXEY7rnVgija0cnJT8V8aVMVwgze_oMOFLCETc0UdlqWVrOa36deRteRnmayXt9gjCEP_aywp0s9ujEoLQ15k8B7WTXY0TzwIY7weI/s1600/magxry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfspBWPIjC7wzvyUbwINq83sWYF4MpsCQ5RWQF8rXEY7rnVgija0cnJT8V8aVMVwgze_oMOFLCETc0UdlqWVrOa36deRteRnmayXt9gjCEP_aywp0s9ujEoLQ15k8B7WTXY0TzwIY7weI/s320/magxry.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The White Lady legend has stories sprinkled in
various countries. They supposedly died or suffered trauma in life and are
associated with losing or being betrayed by a husband or fiancé. They have
white cloudy eyes with short white hair and milky white skin, each of her
physical features are very distinguished. She often appears not to be fearful
in nature, more like sad. One such variation of this legend is located on a
road in Leroy, North Dakota.</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Legend states on a stretch of road, now known as White Lady Road, a traveling
salesman became attracted to a farmer's daughter. He took her for a walk on
this remote road for a more intimate encounter. When they came to a bridge over
a swampy area, he made his move. Her response to his gesture was anything but what
he desired. Instead of walking away, he flew in to a rage and killed her.</span></b></div>
</span>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Today, when people travel on White Lady Road, it is sometimes met with a
surprise. During no specific time at night, witnesses have been known to come
across a woman dressed in white standing in the road. Before they can react,
she suddenly appears on their vehicle looking inside with red glowing eyes. The
purpose of her actions has been tied to her searching for her murderer. Those
who have encountered her drove at high speeds to rid themselves of her
presence, but she is one of determination. This particular white lady will not
leave you be until she is satisfied the man she is looking for is not in your
car.</span></b></div>
</span>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Of course, there are variations of this legend. Another version has the woman
being forced in to a marriage with a man she doesn't love all because she
became pregnant by him. When she returned home from the wedding to find her
infant dead and faced with a lifetime married to someone she hated, the woman
went to a nearby bridge and hung herself. Visitors have seen her hanging from
that bridge still wearing the white dress she was married in.</span></b></div>
</span></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-75571234106965717832012-11-02T05:32:00.001-07:002012-11-02T05:32:11.257-07:00GHOST STORY “TRUE HAUNTINGS”<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"><span style="font-size: x-large;">GHOST STORY<o:p></o:p></span></span></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"><span style="font-size: x-large;">“ <u>TRUE HAUNTINGS</u> ”</span><span style="font-size: medium; text-decoration: underline;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifY4OkaJ1heQ8tMJtzwG6ePdxc1-R2QolkaZcs8iaeDcQ0psrWQUfkE6yIhUEL8xAUx4ypbpFR3VpXS1VpwxR5Fpb_p67fdzWPCu-n4Qn2He9Srp3qdxQd_IczotJqhD5Jkfm-8RCnP3tT/s1600/ghost-castle_422_29113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifY4OkaJ1heQ8tMJtzwG6ePdxc1-R2QolkaZcs8iaeDcQ0psrWQUfkE6yIhUEL8xAUx4ypbpFR3VpXS1VpwxR5Fpb_p67fdzWPCu-n4Qn2He9Srp3qdxQd_IczotJqhD5Jkfm-8RCnP3tT/s400/ghost-castle_422_29113.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Okay pretty
much everyone I know has ghost stories and this is definitely the time of year
that you hear them the most so I thought I’d share a few of my weird
experiences with you all and I hope you will feel free to do the same.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">My first
experience with something strange was in my first apartment/home. I was working
on a perspective art project for college so I’d parked my little table and
chair directly in front of the stair way with the kitchen sink directly behind
me and a wall to my right and open kitchen to my left. So anyway I was drawing
when my happily resting german shepherd jumped to her feet and started to
growl. She started viciously barking in my direction for and for a very scary
moment I thought she might attack me…that was until I realized she wasn’t
looking at me. She was looking in back of me. There was only a wall there.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Next one I
was working on the children’s psych unit at my local hospital. I know what your
thinking. It’s going to be creepy, it’s a psych unit, that used to be a
Convent. Nope we have cheery bright patterned carpeting, rainbow-colored doors
and bright lighting. Well anyway we get this kid who starts listening to this
smashmouth song on repeat over and over again all day long. We ignore it but
that night he comes tearing out of his room screaming at the top of his lungs
that the green faced woman with red eyes and sharp teeth was going to get him.
This kid was 12 at the time and he was known for causing a lot of trouble so we
told him it was a dream and to go back to bed. He outright refused to go back
into his room so at three in the morning we were moving him to anther room. Now
the weird part. Three months later we get a 16-year-old girl and we put her in
that room. One day she starts listening to the exact same smashmouth song on
repeat. The staff thought it was weird since the song had kind of fallen out of
fashion when most of us were in high school but again we ignored it. That night
she came out of her room dragging her mattress. She refused to go back into her
room and I had to sit with her for the rest of the night. The next day she told
the doctor that she’d seen a green faced woman with red eyes and sharp teeth.
Later that same year one of the staff was doing a 1 to 1 safety observation
when she told me she felt weird sitting alone in the hall at night. So to
please her I pulled a chair into the hall but closer to the nursing station. We
were both looking straight ahead when the light in the empty LOCKED classroom
went on. I looked down the hall and she gave me a wide-eyed look.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8vhKdcBmVj4dorhX60EFGUtyl9APTuPIuIJ6-RRvFGCc94dlCuaszfqoBKC-ithkZ0RQPCwyGeDo4w5EZGafJzgVbQrv8aSfvsljiLT8L79NNjcaqj2QpBVr_fuyVq0Fd4lR2fCoCbyq/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8vhKdcBmVj4dorhX60EFGUtyl9APTuPIuIJ6-RRvFGCc94dlCuaszfqoBKC-ithkZ0RQPCwyGeDo4w5EZGafJzgVbQrv8aSfvsljiLT8L79NNjcaqj2QpBVr_fuyVq0Fd4lR2fCoCbyq/s400/images.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The haunted
Trailer. Okay about five years ago my apartment building was sold and all the
people living there were given thirty days to scoot. Since I had not only one
but two Doberman pinschers, finding a place to rent wasn’t easy so rather than
get rid of my dogs I rented a trailer owned by a friend. Walking into the place
for the first time I felt sick to my stomach. I chalked it up to being forced
to move out of a really nice two bedroom apartment and into a 1970 something
skyline trailer but I was stuck. The dogs trotted into the place and seemed
pretty at ease until I tried to feed them. Since dobies are known to get bloat,
the thing that killed Marley from the movie, anyway I throw their food on the
floor and they go around snuffling it up like vacuums. So I did this but they
refused to go into the kitchen. I could have thrown a prime rib on the floor
and they would not have gone into the kitchen. Not long afterwards I realized
the dogs weren’t going anywhere. During the night they would each take a side
of the couch and Corey would cover them with a blanket and the next morning
they were still on the couch covered up. They were scared and started growling
at bare walls, their short spiky hackles rising from nape to tail. It was
freaking me out. This stuff didn’t only happen at night or when I was alone. It
was happening all the time. Then one night Corey and I were getting ready for
bed when he was sneaking a soda from the fridge. Suddenly I heard his pounding
foot falls racing down the hall and he and both Dobermans jumped on the bed
next to me. His arms and bare back were covered with goosebumps. He said he’d
been drinking out of the bottle when Aurora walked into the kitchen in front of
him and lowered her head and started growling at the corner of the dark room.
Corey said he put down the bottle and heard footsteps rush towards him. We
moved after only living there for 29 days. Come to find out I asked the guy
who’d lived there before if anything weird had ever happened in the kitchen. He
said he hadn’t noticed anything but the guy who’d lived there before him had
died at the kitchen table.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Tg3yFORogB5xSPlD8aQkK_qGhFsrtiRKCtTTyAVsSy3B1jxillEhePOYXf3Js-yd4eEpnXgfzG8UmSkK1KQD5K28zcECX5CTgnMCayrGPhyphenhyphen2KtQvc6rpMcE8vm6V_rksSjjuwB_8ajbi/s1600/ghost-on-film-factoid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Tg3yFORogB5xSPlD8aQkK_qGhFsrtiRKCtTTyAVsSy3B1jxillEhePOYXf3Js-yd4eEpnXgfzG8UmSkK1KQD5K28zcECX5CTgnMCayrGPhyphenhyphen2KtQvc6rpMcE8vm6V_rksSjjuwB_8ajbi/s400/ghost-on-film-factoid.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">This one
isn’t a ghost story really, but it did happen. After my mother passed away I
started having really terrifying dreams of being possessed or attacked by
unseen demons. After six long months this was becoming so frequent that I
wasn’t sleeping anymore. So one night at work I was talking with a friend and
she suggested I say the prayer of St. Micheal and sleep with it under my bed.
So anyway I waited for Corey to go to work and went about protecting my house
one room at a time. I didn’t dream of demons that night but a few days later I
did. I was standing in my bathroom. In this particular reoccurring dream the
door would slam shut and the lights would go out and I’d be violently attacked,
while Corey banged on the door trying to rescue me. Well not this time. I
looked to the doorway and narrowed my eyes at a small growling sound coming
from the hallway. “I see you.” I said, then I leapt onto the back of the
invisible attacker but this time I did the attacking. I fought with everything
I had. This was the last time I ever had the dream. Little note, St. Micheal is
a warrior. The protector of Heaven. It may just have been a complex
psychological thing because though I’d always seen myself as my mother’s
protector she’d died anyway, but it may also have been that I’d gained strength
from another warrior and I finally got my fight back.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigjkkBP1Q_MIyjACJr6Gi91GTy-vIzhbIQbX52TkW10EAHUcTlDcWN5ZIIJRWl3rvmylXmA-cYpDFUPcPhohS_crqe1u9HM6Zb-c3YJ2nNou9S-eFa5mbk68zkmq8R1A3ooGSBI1J5llPh/s1600/ghost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigjkkBP1Q_MIyjACJr6Gi91GTy-vIzhbIQbX52TkW10EAHUcTlDcWN5ZIIJRWl3rvmylXmA-cYpDFUPcPhohS_crqe1u9HM6Zb-c3YJ2nNou9S-eFa5mbk68zkmq8R1A3ooGSBI1J5llPh/s400/ghost.jpg" width="341" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Last one,
again not really a ghost story but it brought tears to my eyes. Last year Corey
lost his grandfather to cancer. Corey and his grandfather were really close.
Corey was born on his grandfather’s birthday and he was given his name. Every
year they even shared a birthday party. They were exactly 60 years apart. Well
a few days ago on Corey’s birthday he was going to work and it was still dark
out. He said the sky was crystal clear and really starry so he stared up at the
sky for a little while, just taking it in. Then he said, Happy Birthday Pepere,
grandfather in Acadian French. A shooting star cut across the sky directly
after. We could say it was a coincidence or we could just call it what it
is…amazing.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b><span style="color: red; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-effects-shadow-align: topleft; mso-effects-shadow-alpha: 50.0%; mso-effects-shadow-angledirection: 7020000; mso-effects-shadow-anglekx: 0; mso-effects-shadow-angleky: 0; mso-effects-shadow-color: black; mso-effects-shadow-dpidistance: 1.811pt; mso-effects-shadow-dpiradius: 2.008pt; mso-effects-shadow-pctsx: 100.0%; mso-effects-shadow-pctsy: 100.0%; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-style-textoutline-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textoutline-fill-color: black; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-align: center; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-compound: simple; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-dash: solid; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-dpiwidth: .709pt; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-join: miter; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-linecap: flat; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-pctmiterlimit: 0%; mso-style-textoutline-type: solid;">Feel free to leave
comments. If you’re a non-believer its okay to leave your comments as well.
It’s cool I get it. :)</span></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-3852868518315464502012-11-02T05:18:00.001-07:002012-11-02T05:18:05.926-07:00GET OUT OF MY ROOM<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-family: "Segoe Script","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Submission by a Blog Reader</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Segoe Script","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Segoe Script","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“GET OUT OF MY ROOM”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 12.0pt; letter-spacing: 3.0pt; mso-effects-glow-alpha: 35.0%; mso-effects-glow-color: #0D7BFF; mso-effects-glow-colortransforms: satm=220000; mso-effects-glow-rad: 3.583pt; mso-effects-glow-themecolor: accent1; mso-style-textfill-fill-gradientfill-shade-linearshade-angle: 5400000; mso-style-textfill-fill-gradientfill-shade-linearshade-fscaled: no; mso-style-textfill-fill-gradientfill-shadetype: linear; mso-style-textfill-fill-gradientfill-stoplist: "10000 \#6399ED 4 100000 tint=83000 shade=100000 satm=200000\,75000 \#235B9F 4 100000 tint=100000 shade=50000 satm=150000"; mso-style-textfill-type: gradient; mso-style-textoutline-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textoutline-fill-color: black; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-align: center; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-compound: simple; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-dash: solid; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-dpiwidth: .45pt; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-join: miter; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-linecap: flat; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-pctmiterlimit: 0%; mso-style-textoutline-type: solid;">The
following story was sent in by Jules Ness<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6_e_RZ_BFa8jzg-wCPqgH12LpjmYza2uFAaByCwXJ6yVu95akhihFg2t_X3WUwDU7Euh2horwzPq8oAPCtUMu4se19I26X6cDQQwnciMr2ywH5_sjokvG7oTyZv4-DOLLyRCmLiUmuf3B/s1600/west_virginia_penitentiary_ghost_picture_022011aa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6_e_RZ_BFa8jzg-wCPqgH12LpjmYza2uFAaByCwXJ6yVu95akhihFg2t_X3WUwDU7Euh2horwzPq8oAPCtUMu4se19I26X6cDQQwnciMr2ywH5_sjokvG7oTyZv4-DOLLyRCmLiUmuf3B/s400/west_virginia_penitentiary_ghost_picture_022011aa.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">When I was
twenty one years old, my new husband's family offered to sell us a house that
had been in his family for generations at an incredibly cheap price. They had a
difficult time keeping it rented and did not want to hassle with it anymore. We
jumped at the opportunity and moved in almost immediately. It was only a matter
of hours before strange things began to happen. It did not take me long to
decide there was something or someone else other than us in that house.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Almost every
night we would hear something coming up the staircase. The steps were old so
you could hear every creak. Nick, my husband would jump up out of bed whenever
he heard it to go make sure that someone hadn't broken in. It would always end
the same, no one was there. The ghost appeared to get braver as time went on.
We could hear the steps eventually come down the hall; they were getting a
little closer to our bedroom door with each visit. Finally, the night came that
we had both been dreading. Nick was sound asleep, exhausted from working hours
of overtime. I heard the steps dare to pass the doorway of our bedroom and
enter our room.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I felt
slightly aware of something or someone approach the side of the bed I had my
back turned to, but I was afraid to look. I just kept my face in Nick's chest
and closed my eyes tightly. I felt as though there was someone right behind me,
right behind my head just staring at me. I knew one thing for sure; I was not
going to turn around to check. I just wanted to fall back to sleep as soon as
possible.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7EwVZeLx0igWR2L9uNJmFCjA2oP97vr7X4zlzHSAMU_jiHLr1_cczggxh4wavsqB-7HSnGg73nzNOZBkPzo-NoeMcRbiDUnRypOsqfKy1CumueE3bRpHiU0Bhrim3fZ-QSoWnn27mtZZ/s1600/ghost43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7EwVZeLx0igWR2L9uNJmFCjA2oP97vr7X4zlzHSAMU_jiHLr1_cczggxh4wavsqB-7HSnGg73nzNOZBkPzo-NoeMcRbiDUnRypOsqfKy1CumueE3bRpHiU0Bhrim3fZ-QSoWnn27mtZZ/s320/ghost43.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">My hand
searched under the covers for Nick's hand. I very softly and quietly moved my
hand beneath his big palm. I did not want to disturb him; I just knew it would
make me feel better if his hand was lying on top of mine.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">My back felt
ice cold; I tried to bring the covers up tighter around my neck and back.
That\'s when I felt it. Something moved briefly on the bed behind me. I did not
acknowledge it. I forced myself to stay still as if I were still asleep. I felt
that if I suddenly reacted, I would see something horrible, so I did not turn
around, I did not move.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">That seemed
to upset whatever was behind me. I felt the bed move again, but just ever so
slightly. I felt that whatever was behind me was so close to me it was almost
touching my hair. I had the feeling on my scalp similar to when you have static
electricity in your hair. I was sure it must almost be standing on end.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I rubbed
Nick's palm with the back of my hand. I think I was actually trying to wake
him, but trying to do it quietly, so whatever was behind me would not notice.
It didn’t work. Nick just grunted a moment and then took another deep breath,
he was still sound asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I felt
another movement on the bed directly behind me again. I actually could feel the
blanket I had wrapped so tightly around me tug on me a bit as if someone had
laid some weight on it behind me, I was sure that something was trying to get
even closer to me. Suddenly I felt air blow on my cheek. It was just the same
as if someone had breathed on me, except it was a lot colder, ice cold.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFvC77Kw-HvWjpS7XiYQBFNV3EChVCacdUhyphenhyphenh_QOFQH5iDQ9sLs-SOziC_qDZmnc-NSsXp6jF6MSInKFnQ4o-oYKSpYIy6XSG1A4SFNqk-qHWo_fmTg7w4hJDdzoLWDY4OPNTCrVitGFEQ/s1600/ghost6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFvC77Kw-HvWjpS7XiYQBFNV3EChVCacdUhyphenhyphenh_QOFQH5iDQ9sLs-SOziC_qDZmnc-NSsXp6jF6MSInKFnQ4o-oYKSpYIy6XSG1A4SFNqk-qHWo_fmTg7w4hJDdzoLWDY4OPNTCrVitGFEQ/s400/ghost6.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I tried
rubbing Nick's hand again only I did it more aggressively this time. He moaned
a little and turned to face me laying his arm across my side. That made me feel
a little better, if there was someone or something directly behind me he would
have struck them with his hand when he put his arm around me. I no sooner had
the thought when Nick's arm went flying off of me and back towards him. It was
as if someone had picked up his arm and flung it off of me. At that same exact
moment, I felt a very strong tug on my hair, and heard a whisper in my ear.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Get out
of my room," the words struck me like a knife in my stomach.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">It was a very
raspy mean voice. I woke Nick instantly, but once again there was no one there.
Many things happened in that house. We only lived there for thirty six days,
thirty six days of pure mental hell.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">That was when
I started to believe in ghosts and spirit hauntings. It forever changed how I
view things. I wrote a book about the whole experience, The Lennox Haunting. It
is on Amazon. It has the Look Inside, if you are interested in reading the
first three chapters. It is also on the Nook at Barnes and Noble…Jules<br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-3504970586469673092012-11-02T05:07:00.001-07:002012-11-02T05:07:32.133-07:00THE ARCTIC GHOST FROM THE WEST<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-family: "Segoe Script","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Submission by a Blog Reader</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Segoe Script","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Segoe Script","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“THE ARCTIC GHOST FROM THE WEST ”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 12.0pt; letter-spacing: 3.0pt; mso-effects-glow-alpha: 35.0%; mso-effects-glow-color: #0D7BFF; mso-effects-glow-colortransforms: satm=220000; mso-effects-glow-rad: 3.583pt; mso-effects-glow-themecolor: accent1; mso-style-textfill-fill-gradientfill-shade-linearshade-angle: 5400000; mso-style-textfill-fill-gradientfill-shade-linearshade-fscaled: no; mso-style-textfill-fill-gradientfill-shadetype: linear; mso-style-textfill-fill-gradientfill-stoplist: "10000 \#6399ED 4 100000 tint=83000 shade=100000 satm=200000\,75000 \#235B9F 4 100000 tint=100000 shade=50000 satm=150000"; mso-style-textfill-type: gradient; mso-style-textoutline-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textoutline-fill-color: black; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-align: center; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-compound: simple; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-dash: solid; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-dpiwidth: .45pt; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-join: miter; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-linecap: flat; mso-style-textoutline-outlinestyle-pctmiterlimit: 0%; mso-style-textoutline-type: solid;">The
following story was sent in by Jennifer<span style="color: red;"> Estes</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ0hyFzWOX0_DePqjcBDwGZEKUaTBnv0TMGRbA-mGaXp376gsISC_B6qyO53cJ5Esas9Ixhsv7X8nJNVvBh7nUx9tDvQakWDiP_e45U4wMgf5SSHQgoKYCgjmqH4ip5S4qBJTKSWNBphN/s1600/hms_enterprise__1848__and_hms_investigator__1848__in_the_ice.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ0hyFzWOX0_DePqjcBDwGZEKUaTBnv0TMGRbA-mGaXp376gsISC_B6qyO53cJ5Esas9Ixhsv7X8nJNVvBh7nUx9tDvQakWDiP_e45U4wMgf5SSHQgoKYCgjmqH4ip5S4qBJTKSWNBphN/s400/hms_enterprise__1848__and_hms_investigator__1848__in_the_ice.jpeg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I work on
what’s called The North Slope, an arctic oilfield at the very Northern tip of
Alaska. There are a couple thousand workers here, all from different major oil
companies and we all work remotely, and rotationally- meaning we usually are
here 3 weeks or so, and then fly to our homes throughout the U.S. for a break,
or RnR.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">While we are
here working, we live in "camps". Basically like modular homes on
stilts that can be moved. Each room is tiny, with only a single bed and a
closet and a small window. Think of a mini Motel 6 without all of the
amenities.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Last winter,
when temperatures had reached around 65 below zero I started doing some
research on a project, I have always been a fan of the "Wild West",
and in particular Wyatt Earp. I decided in my down time to pick something out
that jumped out at me about that era, and write a story about it. While doing
my research, I happened upon information about Mattie Blaylock, otherwise known
as Celia Ann Blaylock, Wyatt Earp’s former prostitute and eventual common law
wife who died of a drug overdose after she and Wyatt went their separate ways.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her story
fascinated me, and in the 24 hour frigid darkness, I began to search the
internet to find as many clues as I could to her life.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJivtpVb3wEgdhIPdjNtUrjln4QNG7caCj1ZbKOR-bUVZ96sl84_Ufl-tLCxCgkK9EuL2eMIh3IOo5KfAdd5O5d6WV2qeAZxYujD8aRDAwlKdBXlhytzGckzEsJBaHf6qWll1-zwLE1_-/s1600/weathered-boardwalk-in-west-virginia-ghost-town-wv153_thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJivtpVb3wEgdhIPdjNtUrjln4QNG7caCj1ZbKOR-bUVZ96sl84_Ufl-tLCxCgkK9EuL2eMIh3IOo5KfAdd5O5d6WV2qeAZxYujD8aRDAwlKdBXlhytzGckzEsJBaHf6qWll1-zwLE1_-/s400/weathered-boardwalk-in-west-virginia-ghost-town-wv153_thumb.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A week or so
after my search began, one night after toiling over the internet I laid down on
my bed to finally get some sleep. I turned off the light and closed my eyes. As
I was drifting off, thinking about Mattie, another thought occurred to me.
"I have such a hard time finishing projects, I don’t know if this story
will ever come to actual fruition. Maybe I should just let it go."<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Suddenly, my
room light flipped on. Simultaneously, both my window curtain (yes it was
closed- it was at least 60 below zero outside) and the curtain near my closet
blew up like a huge gust of wind had passed through. I sat up in bed, staring
at the curtains and then at the light switch. It was flipped up. I had just
turned it off moments before. My heart was racing and the room was filled with
electricity that was almost tangible.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwMeX6mkxIoJrjUUWNSWMIjfpHmhS9caMitCLAjhSpJTsRTkEdUWDqkAMKDvNj6-BrlrmyLBLcMVAJrXv4kJ_rVkzTBcfV82o4ZWvEVwcoTpmp6KfAsdTkUCQcGiW6t37D2_Lv2tRDcoID/s1600/gallows-hill-ghost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwMeX6mkxIoJrjUUWNSWMIjfpHmhS9caMitCLAjhSpJTsRTkEdUWDqkAMKDvNj6-BrlrmyLBLcMVAJrXv4kJ_rVkzTBcfV82o4ZWvEVwcoTpmp6KfAsdTkUCQcGiW6t37D2_Lv2tRDcoID/s400/gallows-hill-ghost.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I was alone
in my room and unsure of what to do. The wind died down but the electricity
hadn’t. The air was charged. I whispered "Mattie- is that you?"<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">There was no
response. But I started to feel hot, like my skin was on fire. I decided to
leave my room and go out to the common area and gather my thoughts. I called my
husband in Washington and told him what had happened.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He simply
said "She wants her story told. You clearly thought about quitting. I
don’t think she liked it."<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">After an hour
or so I went back to my room. I sat down on my bed and said out loud
"Mattie- I won’t quit. I will finish. I promise." And she never came
back.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-84403812884833002982012-11-02T04:00:00.002-07:002012-11-02T04:00:59.245-07:00GHOST STORY “OLD CHARLESTON JAIL”<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">GHOST STORY<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“</span></u></b><b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">OLD CHARLESTON JAIL</span></u></b><b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">”</span></u></b><b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 21.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tonight is the premiere of Ghost
Hunters 2nd half of Season 8. Their first investigation without co-founder
Grant Wilson will take place in the Old Charleston Jail located in Charleston, South
Carolina.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKn0FC43DHcEagFA-M7kl4k1mpmONJTCSxxNDMZS0eHvpb_ZokYUchGauOOyAlI1gMT6PJ9NkXY8gZxxdDgUtjb_dzr8QVRxURm75hgFJ7y_XS035Ra6EOjbxakrBS3xHwiFhjRXqK4onz/s1600/2005VacationPics25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKn0FC43DHcEagFA-M7kl4k1mpmONJTCSxxNDMZS0eHvpb_ZokYUchGauOOyAlI1gMT6PJ9NkXY8gZxxdDgUtjb_dzr8QVRxURm75hgFJ7y_XS035Ra6EOjbxakrBS3xHwiFhjRXqK4onz/s400/2005VacationPics25.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In 1680, the city of Charleston set aside four square acres of land for public
use. Over the years it was a hospital, poor house, and workhouse for runaway
slaves before being turned in to a jail in 1802. The original building
consisted of four stories with a two-story octagonal tower. Robert Mills,
America's first native-born architect, designed a fireproof wing with
individual cells in 1822 which was replaced in 1855 by a rear octagonal wing by
Charleston architects Barbot & Seyle. The 1886 earthquake damaged the tower
and top story of the main building so severely they had to be removed. The
gallows remained in the courtyard until being destroyed by Hurricane Hugo. The
jail never received indoor plumbing, electricity, running water, or glass in
the windows (the guards quarters being the only exception).<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjlyceUZ8h76QW8On_lBFkyY9ipRYcuj0dImksfkEpYdO4V5uvH33thZZZG1y9GxlGEtOH77ADMgr1-DbsFrLlN-72wOOzk7ZCh_qEpOuD68ARh34Vftm6PWff4Q9kuoF_Jw1baqaPWu2/s1600/4860-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjlyceUZ8h76QW8On_lBFkyY9ipRYcuj0dImksfkEpYdO4V5uvH33thZZZG1y9GxlGEtOH77ADMgr1-DbsFrLlN-72wOOzk7ZCh_qEpOuD68ARh34Vftm6PWff4Q9kuoF_Jw1baqaPWu2/s1600/4860-1.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
The jail remained operational until 1939. During these 137 years, it house
Confederate and Federal prisoners of war including the 54th Massachusetts
Regime (known as the first black unit to fight in the Civil War) upon their
capture and Charleston's most infamous criminals such as John and Lavinia
Fisher (also known as America's first female serial killer) were convicted and
executed for robbery and murder 30 or 300 people (reports vary). They were
imprisoned in the jail from 1819 to 1820, maintaining their innocence until the
day they were publicly hanged.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
While they awaited hanging, the last of the 19th-century high-sea pirates were
jailed there in 1822. Denmark Vesey plotted a slave revolt in 1822 to take over
Charleston. Before the plan could be carried out he was imprisoned and later
hanged in the Old Charleston Jail along with over 170 free blacks and slaves
and four white men for their involvement and support. Because of the Vesey plot,
increased restrictions were placed on slaves and free blacks including a law
requiring all black seaman to be kept at the jail while they were in port. The
jail also saw bootleggers, gangsters and debtors.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTk0vA_pvQESs2IhL9YF_6hxxi5d0OIym73VML65fvkRdthvdzXA_rljQQ7hLtOywhTdFTtwtsqPzj1bCGyAU3qEyZe8hP1Jqp3eOs-FuWbeQy2yMPrbmjviTe2-CsGYP93hUe75hSyBxF/s1600/111020_old_charleston_jail_AC_036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTk0vA_pvQESs2IhL9YF_6hxxi5d0OIym73VML65fvkRdthvdzXA_rljQQ7hLtOywhTdFTtwtsqPzj1bCGyAU3qEyZe8hP1Jqp3eOs-FuWbeQy2yMPrbmjviTe2-CsGYP93hUe75hSyBxF/s400/111020_old_charleston_jail_AC_036.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
The jail remained vacant for 61 years after it closed. The American College of
the Building Arts acquired it in 2000 and began the preservation efforts.
Today, the Old City Jail is an official "Save America's Treasures"
project of the National Trust for Historic Preservation and the White House
Millennium Council. It also hosts the Bulldog Tours' Haunted Jail Tour.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
The jail is reportedly haunted by the spirits of deceased prisoners that died
in the jail. One of the spirits is believed to be Lavinia Fisher who is often
seen in the white wedding dress she wore to court. Cell doors move on their
own. Doors slam shut. Shadow people are often seen. Many visitors have been
touched, grabbed and scratched.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-78818587913884739232012-11-02T03:38:00.000-07:002012-11-02T03:38:24.112-07:00GHOST STORY “THE WHITE EAGLE CAFE & SALOON”<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">GHOST STORY<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<h3 align="center" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“THE WHITE EAGLE CAFE </span></u><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">&</span></u><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> SALOON</span></u><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">”</span></u></h3>
<div>
<u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhceRfOQO4euPZe60D2BTFdF8Qs96D-r0nbr9ipzm62qBii1g9bo0-B916ynw5YfznuoxFbeIssHD7sQPECfRWYzrS4soxFCr1W8VYmn347Q_e2FB_DxWWARtCYkiz224cc5gJf-dOMLgtR/s1600/9151117-large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhceRfOQO4euPZe60D2BTFdF8Qs96D-r0nbr9ipzm62qBii1g9bo0-B916ynw5YfznuoxFbeIssHD7sQPECfRWYzrS4soxFCr1W8VYmn347Q_e2FB_DxWWARtCYkiz224cc5gJf-dOMLgtR/s320/9151117-large.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The White Eagle Saloon was considered the place to be for men
from all over the world who worked on the docks. It wasn't just the thirst of
alcohol that kept them coming back. The White Eagle Saloon depicted much of the
seedier side of frontier life in the 1900s.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Two Polish immigrants, Barney Soboleski and William Hryszko, opened the White
Eagle in 1905 to offer other Polish immigrants a place of after-work
recreation: pool, cigars, poker, liquor, beer and for the right price patrons
could indulge in a brothel upstairs or an opium den downstairs. It earned the
nickname "Bucket of Blood" from frequent brawls that erupted in and
around the saloon. However, it didn't stop the trolley from dumping men at its
doorstep until 1916 when Prohibition put a stop to legal drinking. Then, The
White Eagle became the "it" place to get ice cream cones and those
wanting a good stiff pop could still get the goods down in the basement, below
the "soda shop."<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Once Prohibition was lifted, The Eagle served hard-working, blue-collar
clientele for over 35 years until the 70s and 80s when bands such as Pete
Karnes Blooz Band, Driving Sideways, Paul DeLay, Terry Robb, Steve Bradley,
Robert Cray and the Razorbacks began playing there. It achieved legendary
status in Portland much like CBGBs once was (and always will be).<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAerw1cVjJIzRgk2SxkQMA7W6H3NIKWPU0RqKRI8rxx7hCzMRp09OfOY9lI9ZxVk-UTqMh6Y6F8T9W9HEisNSXahw8eJgXucenJdFhvaz8yToE5c8XUWLMGkRO2nrgBBR-T1caAZIWyCCz/s1600/mcmenamins-white-eagle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAerw1cVjJIzRgk2SxkQMA7W6H3NIKWPU0RqKRI8rxx7hCzMRp09OfOY9lI9ZxVk-UTqMh6Y6F8T9W9HEisNSXahw8eJgXucenJdFhvaz8yToE5c8XUWLMGkRO2nrgBBR-T1caAZIWyCCz/s400/mcmenamins-white-eagle.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now, The Eagle attracts more than just music lovers or potential hotel guests.
Many who once worked there have never left. A "working girl" named
Rose still wanders the upstairs rooms where the "white" brothel once
was, weeping. She was the personal property of the saloon manager until one
paying customer fell in love with her and wanted to take her away from her
dangerous life. Rose wanted to go but was fearful of the saloon manager's
reaction. So, she refused. Instead, her young lover confronted him and was
nearly beaten to death. He again pleaded with Rose to run away with him, but
she refused. In a fit of rage, he stabbed his beloved to death in one of the
upstairs bedrooms. However, she didn't let death stop her. Many have reported
being propositioned by a woman who could only be the ghost of the dead
prostitute. Rose is not the only ghost still seen at The Eagle.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-JDz6fzsNrtxhGuWqDn0i3rPTunThgknY9oenljnNFBQzAODA2fug_99U1ouURU-tr-9QJ1ZQNhn0O1ubDfghYgx6vJdq2l1WO844Ly94qAsHaEEmMF3AWbhNIrAa5Eg937kFxOT-U8u/s1600/-White_Eagle_Cafe_Hotel___-20000000002571818-500x375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-JDz6fzsNrtxhGuWqDn0i3rPTunThgknY9oenljnNFBQzAODA2fug_99U1ouURU-tr-9QJ1ZQNhn0O1ubDfghYgx6vJdq2l1WO844Ly94qAsHaEEmMF3AWbhNIrAa5Eg937kFxOT-U8u/s400/-White_Eagle_Cafe_Hotel___-20000000002571818-500x375.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Spirits of black and Chinese women who disposed of their babies in the basement
are said to clog the atmosphere. Men who were shanghaied in the underground
tunnels still hang around after being dead for so long. The image of a man
named Sam who worked at the saloon the length of his life has been seen, gazing
from the second floor window. Perhaps he's watching over the establishment.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-55281544400622484322012-11-02T03:21:00.001-07:002012-11-02T03:21:35.548-07:00GHOST STORY MOUNT MISERY<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">G H O S T S T O R Y<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“ </span></u></b><b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Mistral; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">M O U N T M I S E R Y ”</span></u></b><b><u><span style="color: red; font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR9NCE3ZAw7B5qNR3Yi67y4ON1DsFEthuIz2HGF0BBjYEDgNxCwlnMSGFLTHyTk-0qljMVa8YWsnAyi1I0flfmOLkPZ-gTEjVMNVUh75nOVToL8RDAUmSZNNAhhofUpsb9gSjHR9Dgs4sd/s1600/1_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR9NCE3ZAw7B5qNR3Yi67y4ON1DsFEthuIz2HGF0BBjYEDgNxCwlnMSGFLTHyTk-0qljMVa8YWsnAyi1I0flfmOLkPZ-gTEjVMNVUh75nOVToL8RDAUmSZNNAhhofUpsb9gSjHR9Dgs4sd/s400/1_small.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Mount Misery is a vast 854 acre wooded
area in Huntington, NY. It's name doesn't derive from the many legends attached
to the property. In 1653, local Indians sold the land to the settlers. The
Indians sold them what they believed to be cursed land. They claimed evil
spirits roamed the land. There were rumors of strange lights and sightings of a
"man beast" or hell hound like creature with glowing red eyes. The
settlers soon realized the land was no good for growing crops. It was used
mainly as a trade route. The rough terrain and steep hill made it difficult for
wagons to pass. Thus, it became known as Mount Misery.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In 1840, a hospital was built for the
insane, but not long after, a fire burned it down to the foundation, killing
many of the patients. The hospital was rebuilt about 15 years later. New
patients and staff began reporting the smell of something burning and
unexplained screams heard during the night. The new hospital burned down 5
months after being built.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpzFBjuuooCit6X9PjGz-X-FWct9QB5DeFtwE8WgFqrfKNgavzseJ5e5O2zYRvYISFnRTZJJKCtfvIWUuw1SAJ_InYPtxA3TpNVkR_Hw7SssQarin9Mq3MyUaq2kuTkcxeXEbGucsVVWH_/s1600/misery1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpzFBjuuooCit6X9PjGz-X-FWct9QB5DeFtwE8WgFqrfKNgavzseJ5e5O2zYRvYISFnRTZJJKCtfvIWUuw1SAJ_InYPtxA3TpNVkR_Hw7SssQarin9Mq3MyUaq2kuTkcxeXEbGucsVVWH_/s400/misery1.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Mount Misery is believed to be rather
paranormal active. There have been sightings of a lady in white. No one knows
for sure who this spirit may be but there's speculation she might have been a
patient in the mental hospital. Actually, some believe she caused one of the
fires and was among the patients who died in the fire. She is seen walking
alongside of the road and even likes jumping in front of cars. There also tales
of an elderly male spirit who carries around a wicker basket full of decapitated
heads. Some witnesses traveling down Sweet Hollow Road have encountered the
spirit of a fallen police officer. He was shot in the head and killed during a
routine traffic stop. Even after death, he still pulls cars over. You don't
notice anything wrong until you get a peek at what is missing, the back of his
head.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiniHRaWEF9HF7f8nX4bkq4vxrVvmd9H4aSAX8Q7qvo-ENQ3cnyBm3JQp-1B6pP9vamvMjPDnoUjKsIOndmSinAa9sdCcltF7-Scbxs6q6S27NQDOvo_PrHG_q8QMDaraLjUZivsET2KG-/s1600/MM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiniHRaWEF9HF7f8nX4bkq4vxrVvmd9H4aSAX8Q7qvo-ENQ3cnyBm3JQp-1B6pP9vamvMjPDnoUjKsIOndmSinAa9sdCcltF7-Scbxs6q6S27NQDOvo_PrHG_q8QMDaraLjUZivsET2KG-/s400/MM.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">There are stories of a girl who was hit
and killed by a passing car while trying to fix a flat in the 1970s. This
supposedly took place directly under the Northern State overpass. They say if
you park your car there at night, shut off the lights, and put it in neutral,
she'll push your car until you clear the overpass. Witnesses have reported
seeing children hanging from the Northern State Overpass on occasion. Children
believed to have committed suicide there and may not have been the only one.
There is a story of a young girl who was supposedly attending a nearby horse
riding camp. She was allegedly molested by the counselors. When she told her
father, he didn't believe her. In a rage, she killed them all and then hung
herself from the bridge.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Spirits are not the only things
wandering the mount. There have also been sightings of UFOs in the area and
strange visits from men in black to the locals after each sighting.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-28734420728301492012-11-02T03:05:00.002-07:002012-11-02T03:05:59.576-07:00GHOST STORY “GARDETTE-LAPRETE HOUSE”<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: red;"><u>GHOST STORY </u></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: red;"><u>“</u></span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: red;"><u>GARDETTE-LAPRETE HOUSE”</u></span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKiclGUj03e96q4tV9hqiZTP_gpq-11gUoaAZcsq7XHvZgkug9f_UvFFfIQlk6SJJca1UpocUOG7CBCF_8Z0kHuKCtgNzP4BEclJKTL4Uu9bRZFEgsROwndn6WtypmrOq7zR42AJ8FLOv/s1600/Gardette-LaPrete+House.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKiclGUj03e96q4tV9hqiZTP_gpq-11gUoaAZcsq7XHvZgkug9f_UvFFfIQlk6SJJca1UpocUOG7CBCF_8Z0kHuKCtgNzP4BEclJKTL4Uu9bRZFEgsROwndn6WtypmrOq7zR42AJ8FLOv/s400/Gardette-LaPrete+House.png" width="318" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In the French Quarter, you'll find a four story Greek Revival
house unlike any other. It's not the architecture or wrought-iron laced balcony
that sets it apart from the rest. Gruesome murders turned a wealthy vacation
home in to legend.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The house was built in 1836 for a dentist from Philadelphia named
Joseph Coulton Gardette who later sold it to Jean Baptiste LaPrete, a Creole
and wealthy plantation owner, who bought the pink house as a vacation home.
LaPrete invested a lot of time and money, transforming the residence in to a
suitable place for his family. LaPrete decided to rent it for extra money when
he began to fall on hard times after the Civil War. LaPrete would later lose
the house to the bank.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A mysterious young man allegedly from Turkey approached LaPrete
inquiring about renting his residence. An agreement was made and the man moved
in with his treasure, harem of women and eunuchs. No one knows for sure who the
man was, but he came to be known as "The Sultan". There are theories
this man wasn't a sultan but actually, a brother of The Sultan.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Adjustments were made to the house upon his arrival. Doors and
windows were covered and blocked. The balconies were closed off. The iron gates
were chained and locked. Guards with curved daggers patrolled outside the house
regularly. Soon, the air was filled with smell of incense, music and laughter,
trickling from the house every night. It is said "The Sultan's" harem
was complete with women of all ages and sizes and men as well as young boys.
Some say he went as far as to kidnap women and tortured them until they gave in
to his pleasures. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">One night, the usual rowdy sounds turned to screams. Many people
in the neighborhood were conditioned to "The Sultan's" parties and
didn't give it a second thought. It took neighbors walking by the following
morning to notice something was wrong. The gate was unlocked as it never was.
Upon closer inspection, they noticed blood trickles of blood oozing from under
the front door. It sent them running to notify the police. Knocks went
unanswered, green-lighting their forced entry in to the house. Their eyes fell
on one of the most gruesome sights ever. Blood coated the floors and walls.
Body parts of "The Sultan's" harem and guards were strewn about and
was later determined they were all raped prior to dismemberment. "The
Sultan", however, was not among them. Police wandered out in to the garden
to find a hand sticking out of the soil. "The Sultan" had been buried
alive. Their killers were never determined.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Who could commit such a crime? There have been two persistent
theories. The first puts the blame on pirates. Some claimed to have seen a
pirate ship docked briefly in New Orleans at the time of the murders. Pirates
were a part of Louisiana culture and the treasure "The Sultan" kept
within his home had been taken, making it a possible theory.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The second turns the murders in to a personal nature. It is
believed "The Sultan's" brother sent men to murder him.The reason? To
possibly eliminate any competition for their inheritance or the throne from the
brother. Another possible reason was to avenge their family for stealing the
family fortune.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">No matter who it was the house was left to its ghostly happenings.
It changed hands several times over the years. In the '40s, it was converted in
to the New Orleans Academy of Art but was forced to close after so many
students left for the armed forces. It then became a boarding house and later a
hiding place for vagrants. And eventually, around the 1960s, it was rescued and
turned in to luxury apartments. Today, it is a private residence (Please
respect their privacy). <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Over the years, people have reported hearing Oriental music
emanating from the house as well as the smell of incense. Others have heard
screams and footsteps and seen people wearing Oriental clothing. "The
Sultan" himself has made an appearance on occasion.</span></b><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-34986061240373868452012-11-02T00:40:00.000-07:002012-11-02T00:40:12.357-07:00GHOST STORY “AOKIGAHARA SUICIDE FOREST”<h3 style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 20pt;"><span style="color: red;"><u>GHOST STORY </u></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 20pt;"><span style="color: red;"><u>“</u></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 20pt;"><span style="color: red;"><u>AOKIGAHARA SUICIDE FOREST”</u></span></span></h3>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHIl9VE0CxhbuGzCdmX_BVyPrVu4x0gfuzQGRAYT5pz8dV0bobnDViykBV5vBxjjOKO9NtHYI_KoIiwtuRaU6CyDEBnxjHkeE25Rzz5h8MsgP-BLse0tPhd14Em97QRM8RA_c6ui01GDgt/s1600/Aokigahara+Forest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHIl9VE0CxhbuGzCdmX_BVyPrVu4x0gfuzQGRAYT5pz8dV0bobnDViykBV5vBxjjOKO9NtHYI_KoIiwtuRaU6CyDEBnxjHkeE25Rzz5h8MsgP-BLse0tPhd14Em97QRM8RA_c6ui01GDgt/s400/Aokigahara+Forest.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">At the base of Mt. Fuji in Japan sits
a dense forest. To those who are unfamiliar with it's reputation, Aokigahara
would appear like a run-of-the-mill forest. However, venturing inside would
reveal the weight it bares. Any unexpected hiker will likely find more than
trees, caverns and the lack of wild animals in this forest. Personal items,
such as credit cards, wallets and rail passes are often found as well as a
decomposing body hanging from a tree limb. Aokigahara is the second most
popular suicide location, ranking under the Golden Gate Bridge. There is an
average of 50 to 100 suicides bodies found each year. Signs posted throughout
the forest telling people to seek professional has saved a few lives but still
lack the power to deter all suicides. Why would so many choose this forest as a
place to take their own lives?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">There area a couple of possible
reasons for the high number of suicides. Seich</span></b><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">ō</span></b><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Matsumoto wrote a book in
1960 called Kuroi Kaiju (Black Sea of Trees) which de</span></b><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">scribes the suicide of two lovers in
Aokigahara, leading to romanticizing the act. Although, suicide is believed to
have been associated with the forest long before the book was published. It is
believed the 19th Century practice of "Ubasute" where an infirm or
elderly female relative is carried to a mountain or desolate location and left
to die by dehydration or starvation had more than once taken place there.
Wataru Tsurumui’s controversial 1993 bestseller, The Complete Suicide Manual,
describes various methods of suicide and even lists the forest as "the
perfect place to die". Some who have committed suicide in the forest had
been found with the book in their possession. However, there are those who
think Japan's expectations of excellence may have something to do with it.
Citizens who find themselves unable to succeed buckle under the pressure.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Then again, some remains found may
not be from those who took their lives willingly. Supposedly, underground iron
deposits cause compasses to go haywire and interfere with GPS devices, making
it quite easy to get lost. Not only that, but the forest also contains cenotes,
collapsed lava tubes, and hidden caves. Each can play their part in taking a
life.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Either way, Aokigahara is not only
associated with suicides but myth and ghosts as well. When Forestry workers
come upon a body in the forest they carry it back to their station where a
special room is designated for such occasions. In Japanese mythology, a corpse
can not rest alone. If it is, the lonely, unsettled soul or Yurei will scream
the whole night, and the body will move itself into the regular sleeping
quarters.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Aokigahara is considered the most
haunted location in Japan. Dubbed the "Purgatory of Yurei". Hikers
have often seen apparitions as well as heard the howl of Yurei on the wind.
Some have reported objects moving and seeing shadows amongst the trees.
Spiritualists say that the trees themselves are filled with a malevolent
energy, accumulated from decades of suicides. They try to prevent you from
getting back out. They say if you look hard at the trees, you can see the faces
of the dead in the bark.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Today, the forest is littered with
colored tape used by walkers to find their way among the trees as well as
discarded items and nooses, used to facilitate the suicide of its recent
victims and bouquets of flowers left by grieving friends and family members.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-62522042479641332542012-11-02T00:19:00.001-07:002012-11-02T00:19:41.638-07:00GHOST STORY “THE ANGUISHED MAN"<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><u>GHOST STORY </u></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 150%; margin: 3pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">“<u>THE ANGUISHED MAN</u>"</span><span style="font-size: 20pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6pnPlFw6g_5j_BqyXSnnBU6d_gHshfXLfndXdFCZXMGK9YxHjRzlkd-5yPPwtwD86tYVCAhoV9xRtHUk4hpKzjK2ikISY9xlli-vdxvthQBk3aYH13ioB2N-tNAaXLm3jUUqjeX5W7ce/s1600/ghost-stories.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6pnPlFw6g_5j_BqyXSnnBU6d_gHshfXLfndXdFCZXMGK9YxHjRzlkd-5yPPwtwD86tYVCAhoV9xRtHUk4hpKzjK2ikISY9xlli-vdxvthQBk3aYH13ioB2N-tNAaXLm3jUUqjeX5W7ce/s320/ghost-stories.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Over twenty five years ago a friend
of my Grandmother gave her an old oil painting called "The Anguished
Man". She told my Grandmother that the artist used his own blood mixed in
with the oils and committed suicide shortly after finishing the painting. I have
no way of confirming if this story is true or not but my Grandmother passed the
story down to me when she gave me the painting. I really liked the painting but
because my wife didn’t like it, I kept it in the cellar.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">After our cellar was flooded during a
prolonged period of heavy rain I moved the contents of the cellar to my
parent’s garage while the cellar dried out. When I got the painting back, I
decided to keep it in our spare bedroom on the third floor of our house.
Shortly after getting the painting back, we started to hear strange noises,
loud unexplainable bangs and an odd scraping noise like someone scratching
their nails on fabric. When the painting was in the cellar, our dog would not
go in the cellar, she would just stand outside growling; now when it was
upstairs she refused to go to the top floor despite the fact that she usually
used to follow me everywhere.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxiDAYAXQqcfnsBYN-bMFtZNayT9t372Q8PV9y4f9pcG9VTBs7fvS2AvJM6y5lhE2Di00lZHmpLFzvaZ2t50jVd9I3ZHGgwmWtXoeAjCUOzT_Bl9NTCmvj_uXzGucQahBsfgRtT9C1JIa/s1600/ghost-stories-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxiDAYAXQqcfnsBYN-bMFtZNayT9t372Q8PV9y4f9pcG9VTBs7fvS2AvJM6y5lhE2Di00lZHmpLFzvaZ2t50jVd9I3ZHGgwmWtXoeAjCUOzT_Bl9NTCmvj_uXzGucQahBsfgRtT9C1JIa/s320/ghost-stories-1.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">At night we would often hear crying
and sobbing noises. I suppose these noises could have come from outside the
noise and it was suggested the crying could have been a cat outside but they
sounded like they came from within the house. I wasn’t duly alarmed at this
point and put everything down to natural phenomenon. However, I started to see
the shadowy figure of a man in the house. It was always just in the corner of
the eye or brief fleeting glimpses of a dark shape. Soon the rest of my family
were seeing things too. It has been suggested that because we all knew the
history of the painting that we were all imagining these things and I suppose
that is a possibility but at the time it felt very real.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As the weeks went by, the noises got
progressively worse. I even heard crying that seemed to be coming from inside
our own bedroom. Again, it has been suggested that this could have been from a
cat outside the window but I’ve heard the noises cats make and this sounded
distinctively human. A few nights I woke up suddenly and saw the dark figure of
a man standing at the foot of the bed. Could I have been dreaming? Again this
is a possibility but at the time it felt very real. The figure had the
appearance of a tall middle aged man but his features were unclear. I never
actually felt afraid at this point just extremely curious. I wanted to find out
what was happening. Was it just my imagination or was there something
paranormal happening?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNMKu-mlhG727UBBRA4gzD7ULx5MeHldJr7Ofp1nI5Hpzbf0-izsppT2olee8n1_gcKhTbJSfx9l8FVglEobWZ8z-0fN5IKB8ypmcIR5HJBWunoPbKQRRknYyQxGI2Q2r5uTpTbSFIpdOb/s1600/ghost02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNMKu-mlhG727UBBRA4gzD7ULx5MeHldJr7Ofp1nI5Hpzbf0-izsppT2olee8n1_gcKhTbJSfx9l8FVglEobWZ8z-0fN5IKB8ypmcIR5HJBWunoPbKQRRknYyQxGI2Q2r5uTpTbSFIpdOb/s320/ghost02.jpg" width="287" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">We started to notice numerous cold
spots around the house and we often had a strange feeling of being watched. I
often felt like someone was standing directly behind me and heard whispers that
seemed to be extremely close by. One evening my wife had gone to bed early, she
thought it was me getting into bed beside her but when she turned around she
found herself staring into a strangers eyes. I heard her scream from downstairs
and ran upstairs to find her extremely shaken up by the experience. She has
since told me she may have had a very lucid dream but at the time she was
convinced it had actually happened. After this experience, my wife persuaded me
to put the painting back in the cellar. Things settled down almost immediately
but once again my dog refused to go anywhere near the cellar. When the painting
was upstairs, the dog would quite happily follow me into the cellar.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">After posting the videos on YouTube I
attracted a lot of interest worldwide and several people asked me if I would
consider setting a video camera up in an attempt to record some of the
activity. I moved the painting back into the top bedroom and set up the video
camera. I recorded for approx eight hours over three consecutive nights. After the
first night I was convinced I had left the bedroom door open but in the morning
it was closed so I changed the camera angle in order to record more of the
bedroom because at first it had been focused solely on the painting. After
spending several hours looking through all the footage I found I had recorded
quite a lot of noises, most of them sounded like they came from outside the
house and were easily explainable but a few were different. They sounded like
they came from inside the bedroom. There was a strange scraping sound similar
to the noises we had previously been hearing and the sound of a loud bang, like
something falling but in the morning nothing was disturbed. When I checked the
footage from the second night I found I had recorded the bedroom door suddenly
swinging shut despite there being no drafts in the room. The third night I
closed the door before recording in the hope it might swing open through the
night but on this occasion it remained closed.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLmYefC7FNGvoPhmnQpfly97zCykSUqeuajrRRyx7UYCRDtMNRcRwUmf50gg6WsHoE-R0TxkNSN8R2DQPFloDsFQvtHG_pHaRpfEE9gKf2bjjEtkuuvlHsdjomtLj4k0gFa-sOPTTpQy3/s1600/ep.gho.intro.05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLmYefC7FNGvoPhmnQpfly97zCykSUqeuajrRRyx7UYCRDtMNRcRwUmf50gg6WsHoE-R0TxkNSN8R2DQPFloDsFQvtHG_pHaRpfEE9gKf2bjjEtkuuvlHsdjomtLj4k0gFa-sOPTTpQy3/s320/ep.gho.intro.05.jpg" width="277" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I decided to leave the painting in
the top bedroom for the time being and over the next few weeks my wife felt
someone stroke her hair when she was in the bathroom and one night when I was
going to bed I saw a strange fog like mist at the top of the stairs. I walked
into the middle of it and it was extremely cold. It felt like I was standing in
the middle of some dry ice. My vision was blurred and I became very light
headed. Then suddenly it vanished as quickly as it came. Now while some of the
incidents could be explained by saying I was dreaming or it was a result of my
over active imagination. This strange mist was real. It was something I could
see and feel and something for which I can find no explanation. While the
painting remained upstairs the whole family experienced feelings of being watched.
We also started to hear the noises at night again. Somehow the whole house felt
different when the painting was upstairs. I also began to experience intense
feelings of anxiety and dread and suffered from terrible nightmares.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">At one point it felt like I was being
repeatedly and violently lifted up out of bed and slammed back down. I also
started dreaming about the painting and kept dreaming about the same man, a
tall middle aged man but I could never quite make out his face. After a few
weeks I decided to set up the video camera again in the spare bedroom to try
and catch some more of the activity on tape. This time I recorded over four
consecutive nights for about seven hours each night. I spent hours looking
through the footage again and I found I had recorded several strange light
anomalies. At the time these were recorded everyone in the house was sleeping,
there are thick curtains up in the bedroom so it can't be light from outside.
There was one small lamp on in the bedroom at all times. They were not like the
usual ‘orbs’ you see on some videos and photographs, they seemed to be moving
around and over the painting. I also recorded many noises, such as bangs and
scraping sounds that were similar to the sounds in my previous video.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A few days after this was recorded I
heard my sons footsteps coming down the stairs then suddenly I heard him
stumble and fall down the last four or five steps. I jumped up and rushed to
help him, to my relief he was unhurt, just a little shaken up. Later on in the
day I could tell that something was bothering him so I asked him what was
wrong. He was a little reluctant to tell me at first for fear of sounding
stupid but after some persuasion he told me that it felt like something had
pushed him downstairs. He said that he was just walking down the stairs when he
felt a pressure on his back that pushed him forward. He tried to stop falling
but he said the force behind him was too strong. Well this really concerned me.
Was I putting my family at risk by keeping the painting in the house? I decided
to put the painting away again in the cellar and once again the activity seemed
to stop. I have tried to research the paintings background and have posted the
story all over the internet in the vague hope that someone will recognize the
artist but so far I have had no luck. I have had many offers from people
wanting to buy the painting but I really have no desire to sell it.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwUoHinrvUgFLOpfAu3TFE9dTCcH1JxaWjT-4WacomDWBBSJLfLt9VGVGpUmEYlFra8jtztHzd5WRb3SNBw4NsDz2zMiNV3RkMlJ2ibR4YS3nrnVblTaZATP5HHMaHmk7J37H3Uky7Cp5/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwUoHinrvUgFLOpfAu3TFE9dTCcH1JxaWjT-4WacomDWBBSJLfLt9VGVGpUmEYlFra8jtztHzd5WRb3SNBw4NsDz2zMiNV3RkMlJ2ibR4YS3nrnVblTaZATP5HHMaHmk7J37H3Uky7Cp5/s400/images.jpg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">At first I thought the painting was
very unsettling but I put down all the activity to the fact I had been told of
its background and perhaps I was imagining things, but the longer I had the
painting the more convinced I became that there is something paranormal about
it. It has been suggested that because he used his own blood in the oils it
could be the restless spirit of the artist but a few people have told me that
it may be much more sinister than that. They told me that it could be some sort
of demon. At first I was a little disturbed by the activity but I always felt
there was nothing malicious or evil about it but since my son’s ‘fall’ down the
stairs I’m not too sure. If the painting is indeed ‘haunted’ then is the
‘spirit’ trying to communicate with us, trying to tell us something? I have
been advised at various times to burn the painting or even bury it, then I have
been told not to burn it because if I burn it and it is some sort of</span></b><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></b><b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> gateway then I would be just sealing
whatever has come through into our reality and that could make matters much
worse. I have also been told to have it blessed or even exorcised.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I do know now, however, that I don’t
want to destroy it. I have asked my family if they know anything about the
painting but nobody knows anything about it. All I have to go on is what was
passed on to my Grandmother and in turn was passed on to me. Hopefully I will
eventually find out the artist’s name and then I will be able to research the
validity of its back story. I have tried to remain objective and look at the
events rationally but I have no explanation for some of the things I have
experienced.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4424430030734803460.post-6219137184687917042012-11-02T00:04:00.001-07:002012-11-02T00:04:09.742-07:00WHAT ABOUT GHOST<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRD6vzvPKxBfrcnv1uY0TDpGWGSd0jMbW_1W9A2KJcwgpeA5uZxkUC6Unor9KifiivtG6ssY_TgLk09_klXjGPnQkClA9ILpaWHQa3c50nUDRkf0E0E2nKZxjYSZcA7oscWPas8FrB0H4K/s1600/Free-vector-of-happy-halloween-day-haunted-house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRD6vzvPKxBfrcnv1uY0TDpGWGSd0jMbW_1W9A2KJcwgpeA5uZxkUC6Unor9KifiivtG6ssY_TgLk09_klXjGPnQkClA9ILpaWHQa3c50nUDRkf0E0E2nKZxjYSZcA7oscWPas8FrB0H4K/s400/Free-vector-of-happy-halloween-day-haunted-house.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">Ghost Stories is a cooperative game
in which the players protect the village from incarnations of the lord of hell
– Wu-Feng – and his legions of ghosts before they haunt a town and recover the
ashes that will allow him to return to life. Each Player represents a Taoist
monk working together with the others to fight off waves of ghosts.</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">The players, using teamwork, will
have to exorcise the ghosts which will appear during the course of the game. At
the beginning of his turn, a player brings a ghost into play and places it on a
free spot, and more than one can come in at the same time. The ghosts all have
abilities of their own – some affecting the Taoists and their powers, some
causing the active player to roll the curse die for a random effect, and others
haunting the villager tiles and blocking that tile's special action. On his
turn, a Taoist can move on a tile in order to exorcise adjacent ghosts or to
benefit from the villager living on the tile, providing it is not haunted. Each
tile of the village allows the players to benefit from a different bonus. With
the cemetery, for example, Taoists can bring a dead Taoist back to life, while
the herbalist allows to recover spent Tao tokens, etc. It will also be possible
to get traps or move ghosts or unhaunt other village tiles.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">To exorcise a ghost, the Taoist rolls
three Tao dice with different colors: red, blue, green, yellow, black, and
white. If the result of the roll matches the color(s) of the ghost or
incarnation of Wu-Feng, the exorcism succeeds. The white result is a wild color
which can be used as any color. For example, to exorcise a green ghost with 3
resistance, you need to roll three green, three white, or a combination of
both. If your die rolls fall short, you can also use Tao tokens that match the
color in addition to your roll. You may choose to use these after your roll.
Taoists gain these tokens by using certain village tiles or by exorcising
certain ghosts. One of the Taoists has a power that allows him to receive such
a token once per turn.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">To win, the players must defeat the
incarnation of Wu-Feng, a boss who arrives at the end of the game. There are
also harder difficulty levels that add more incarnations of Wu-Feng, in which
to win, you must defeat all of them.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">There are many more ways to lose,
however. The players lose if three of the village's tiles are haunted, if the
draw pile is emptied while the incarnation of Wu-Feng is still in play, or if
all the priests are dead.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03997892196010248212noreply@blogger.com0