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True story

October 31, 2013

I’ll be the first to tell you: I don’t believe in ghosts.  I don’t believe in UFO’s.  And I don’t believe in spirits.  So how do you explain this (true) story?

In  the summer of 1972 my, father, grandfather, brother and sister drove down to St. Louis from Cleveland.  My uncle lived in St.Louis, along with his wife (my favorite Aunt Mary) and kids.  Uncle Eddy lived in an 100-year-old house.

It was a big place, with three floors, a central stair case and maybe five or six bedrooms.  It was a cool house and had a back stair well, basement and back porch too.

I was 20 years old, full of energy, and I’d bound up the stairs two  a time.  One day I was running up the front stairs, intending to go to one of the bed rooms. When I reached the top, I saw the door to the third floor.  I had absolutely no intention of going to the third floor, but when I saw that door, I instantly changed my mind, and ran up tat third flight.  At the top I made a180 degree turn to my right.

What I saw will remain imbedded in my mind.  It was an old man with long hair, all grey in color.  He was sitting qt a desk and there was a window behind him.

He looked at me in a surprised fashion, as if he was not expecting to see me.

Without a word he got up, and walked out through the window.

I can’t explain what I saw.  I went down stairs and told my dad.  He laughed then he realized how shook up I was.

Did you really see that he asked?  Yes, I replied, that is what I saw.

To this day I can not explain it.  Whenever I think of it, I get goose bumps.

But that’s what I saw, And that is a true story.

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4 Comments
  1. Why now? Have you told anyone else this story Doug? I’m curious.

    • Doug permalink

      Here is the reason. On Monday, the day before my second surgery (not blogged yet) I tripped and fell. I thought for a long time as to why or what made me fall, and i thought that it was as if a ghost had made me fall. That reminded me of the story.

      I have had one other “weird” encounter. On my ride from Cleveland to Boston, I stopped at a motel. They said “Sorry, no room.” After talking to them for a while they said they owned the house next to the motel and I could stay if I wanted, but they said normally no one stayed there. That night I had a dream about a ghost escorting me around. When I mentioned it to them they became strangely quiet, and rushed me out.

  2. T D Culver permalink

    Running up the stairs to the third floor probably deprived your brain of oxygen and your depleted brain cells malfunctioned… LIKE ALWAYS! Happy All Saints Day, Douglas!!

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