lady of the Lake

My good friend BJ sent me think link, she knew this story growing up in the area, and it's such a great story...

"One of the best-known Dallas legends is the so-called "Lady of White Rock Lake," a ghostly figure who is said to haunt the park's environs. Everyone it seems has heard one or more versions of the story (which seem to have become more gruesome and embellished over time) but is there any truth to them? Or is the "lady" nothing more than an urban legend that has its counterparts in other U.S. cities? No one seems to know for sure.
It appears the story has been circulating for quite a while. Students at Woodrow Wilson High School in East Dallas were telling the tale to one another at least as early as the 1930s, although whether it originated with them or not is uncertain.
A woman named Anne Clark wrote what may be the earliest published account of the legend. Titled "The Ghost of White Rock," Clark's brief story was included in the Texas Folklore Society's 1943 publication, Backwoods to Border. It read:

One hot July night a young city couple, having driven out and parked on the shore of White Rock Lake, switched on the headlights of the car and saw a white figure approaching. As the figure came straight to the driver's window, they saw it was a young girl dressed in a sheer white dress that was dripping wet. She spoke in a somewhat faltering voice.

I'm sorry to intrude, and I would not under any other circumstances, but I must find a way home immediately. I was in a boat that overturned. The others are safe. But I must get home.

She climbed into the rumble seat, saying that she did not wish to get the young lady wet, and gave them an address in Oak Cliff, on the opposite side of Dallas. The young couple felt an uneasiness concerning their strange passenger, and as they neared the destination the girl, to avoid hunting the address, turned to the rumble seat to ask directions. The rumble seat was empty, but still wet.

After a brief, futile search for the girl in white, the couple went to the address she had given and were met at the door by a man whose face showed lines of worry. When he had heard the couple's story, the man replied in a troubled voice. "This is a very strange thing. You are the third couple who has come to me with this story. Three weeks ago, while sailing on White Rock Lake, my daughter was drowned."

In 1953 a similar but much more detailed account was included in Dallas author Frank X. Tolbert's book, Neiman-Marcus, Texas: The Story of the Proud Dallas Store:

One night about ten years ago a beautiful blonde girl ghost appeared on a road near Dallas' White Rock Lake.

Mr. and Mrs. Guy Malloy, directors for display for the world-famous specialty store, Neiman-Marcus, saw the girl. Only they didn't recognize her, right off, for a ghost. She had walked up from the beach. And she stood there in the headlights of the slow-moving Malloy car. Mrs. Malloy said, "Stop, Guy. That girl seems in trouble. She must have fallen in the lake. Her dress is wet. Yet you can tell that it is a very fine dress. She certainly got it at the Store."

By "the Store," Mrs. Malloy meant the Neiman-Marcus Company of Dallas.

The girl spoke in a friendly, cultured contralto to the couple after the car had stopped. She said she'd like to be taken to an address on Gaston Avenue in the nearby Lakewood section. It was an emergency she said. She didn't explain what had happened to her, and the Malloys were too polite to ask. She had long hair, which was beginning to dry in the night breeze. And Mrs. Malloy was now sure that this girl was wearing a Neiman-Marcus dress. She was very gracious as she slipped by Mrs. Malloy and got in the back seat of the two-door sedan.

When the car started, Mrs. Malloy turned to converse with the passenger in the Neiman-Marcus gown. The girl had vanished. There was a damp spot on the back seat.

The Malloys went to the address on Gaston Avenue. A middle-aged man answered the door. Yes, he had a daughter with long blonde hair who wore nothing but Neiman-Marcus clothes. She had been drowned about two years before when she fell off a pier at White Rock Lake.

The point of this story - for our purposes - is not that Mr. and Mrs. Guy Malloy, a hard-working, sober, no-nonsense couple, say very firmly that they saw a ghost. Other folks say they have seen the beautiful girl ghost of White Rock. The point of this story is that she was a very well-dressed ghost. And Mrs. Malloy at once identified her as wearing Neiman-Marcus clothes.

A contemporary Dallas writer, Rose-Mary Rumbley, confirms this story, more or less, in her more recent book, Dallas Too, which was published in 1998 by the Eakin Press.
"My good friend Barbara Rookstool," Dr. Rumbley writes, "vows that her daddy, Guy H. Malloy, was the one who created the Lady of the Lake legend." One Friday night, she continues, he worked late on a window display at the Neiman-Marcus store in downtown Dallas. It was after 2 a.m. on Saturday morning when Mr. Malloy, driving home to East Dallas, "first spotted the Lady of the Lake rise from White Rock." Afterward, reports Rumbley, "he told the story of the sighting" and it "has been told ever since."
"As time passed," Rumbley remarks further, "the story grew," adding, "Malloy just saw her. He never took her home." Although this story does not match Tolbert's account in every detail (Rumbley has it taking place in the 1930s, for instance), the former schoolteacher agrees that the alleged spectre "was wearing a dress from Neiman-Marcus."
Was there really someone named Guy H. Malloy, who worked as window dresser for Neiman-Marcus? The answer is most definitely "yes." He and his wife Josephine are listed in Dallas telephone books of the time and some of the earlier directories confirm his occupation. But did he, or he and his wife together, really see a ghost? That question is a bit more difficult to answer.
Another contemporary Dallas author reports that the "Lady of the Lake" has been seen, not in a Neiman-Marcus dress but in a flowing negligee and that she is believed to be the ghost of a despondant young woman who committed suicide by drowning herself in the reservoir. This begs the question: Has anyone ever done such a thing? Again, the answer is yes.
On Friday, July 5, 1935, Mrs. Frank Doyle found a suicide note left by her sister, Louise Ford Davis, who resided at the Melrose Court Hotel. Mrs. Doyle immediately alerted the police, who sent seven squad cars racing to White Rock Lake, in hopes of preventing a tragedy. But they were too late. "Detective Bryan," reported the Daily Dallas Times Herald, "who was driving along the Garland road, turned on to the lake road [East Lawther Drive] and shortly afterward saw Mrs. Davis' head bobbing in the water."
"It was estimated," reported the paper, "that she had been in the lake five minutes when he [Detective Bryan] dragged her to shore." Although artificial respiration was employed in an attempt to revive Mrs. Davis, it was in vain and police remarked that if they had been called only "two or three minutes sooner," they might have saved her. The woman's car was parked nearby, a reporter added, and a "sheet and a pair of white gloves were found on the car seat." However, there was no mention of what she was wearing and the contents of the suicide note were not revealed. After a Saturday funeral service in Dallas, Mrs. Davis' body was taken to Albany, Texas for burial.
On November 24, 1942, another distraught woman, 35-year-old Rose Stone of Mansfield, Texas, also committed suicide by drowning herself in the lake. Her body, dressed in sweater and skirt, was discovered in eight feet of water near the muncipal boathouse by Johnnie Williams, who assisted the park superintendent and city fireman in the search. A note was pinned to her sweater asking that relatives in Fort Worth be notified of her death. Mrs. Stone's coat and hat were found on the shore.
So is Louise Davis or Rose Stone the "Lady of the Lake?" Is it the spirit of one of these unfortunate women that people have seen over the years, rising from the lake? Or is the alleged ghost the troubled soul of a young girl who fell off a pier and drowned, a girl who lived with her parents on Gaston Avenue and had a preference for clothes from Neiman-Marcus?"

link for this story HERE

Shadows in the park?

This was taken the other night at Pratt, on the Nature Trail... The park is rumored to be where satan worshippers help their rituals in the past... This picture was taken by my daughter...
They were going down the trail and the hair on her neck stood up... she got the feeling someone was watching her from behind, and following them... so she turned and clicked a picture, and this showed up... Does it look like a black shadow form on the trail?

I'll let you decide...

(edit: I've been told that a man's body was found somewhere along this nature trail.. it was ruled a suicide, but his friends all swear it was murder - some "vindication" thing or something... interesting, eh?)

Ghost of Christmas Past...

"He spoke before the hour bell sounded, which it now did with a deep, dull, hollow, melancholy One. Light flashed up in the room upon the instant, and the curtains of his bed were drawn.

The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by a hand. Not the curtains at his feet, nor the curtains at his back, but those to which his face was addressed. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside; and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them: as close to it as I am now to you, and I am standing in the spirit at your elbow.

It was a strange figure -- like a child: yet not so like a child as like an old man, viewed through some supernatural medium, which gave him the appearance of having receded from the view, and being diminished to a child's proportions. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white as if with age; and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it, and the tenderest bloom was on the skin. The arms were very long and muscular; the hands the same, as if its hold were of uncommon strength. Its legs and feet, most delicately formed, were, like those upper members, bare. It wore a tunic of the purest white, and round its waist was bound a lustrous belt, the sheen of which was beautiful. It held a branch of fresh green holly in its hand; and, in singular contradiction of that wintry emblem, had its dress trimmed with summer flowers. But the strangest thing about it was, that from the crown of its head there sprung a bright clear jet of light, by which all this was visible; and which was doubtless the occasion of its using, in its duller moments, a great extinguisher for a cap, which it now held under its arm.

Even this, though, when Scrooge looked at it with increasing steadiness, was not its strangest quality. For as its belt sparkled and glittered now in one part and now in another, and what was light one instant, at another time was dark, so the figure itself fluctuated in its distinctness: being now a thing with one arm, now with one leg, now with twenty legs, now a pair of legs without a head, now a head without a body: of which dissolving parts, no outline would be visible in the dense gloom wherein they melted away. And in the very wonder of this, it would be itself again; distinct and clear as ever.

"Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?" asked Scrooge.

"I am."

The voice was soft and gentle. Singularly low, as if instead of being so close beside him, it were at a distance.

"Who, and what are you?" Scrooge demanded.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"Long Past?" inquired Scrooge: observant of its dwarfish stature.

"No. Your past.""

What would the Ghost of Christmas Past show you? Are there Christmas's you would rather he didn't show you?

Make this a Christmas to remember...

Anyone have a story?A photo?

I've been concentrating so much on my Prairie Dreams blog that this one is slacking... I need more ghost stories!!

Random stuff to fill in for lack of photos...

Interesting article on paranormal gear... HERE.

Have you ever listened to THIS radio show? Interesting...

I am going to try to go out tonight,after work, in the freezing cold, and take a few pictures around the rubble.. maybe the cemetery again... see what I can come up with...
I'd like to go back to the old house I photographed in the daytime for Prairie Visions!

New ghost story....

My friend Jenny at Sunflower Wine gave me permission to share with you her ghost story! Check it out HERE.

Nightly photo

There are white squiggly lines all around on the right side of the picture. I suppose this has something to do with the camera, I don't know. Have an explanation? I took this tonight in the cemetery. Click on the picture to see it full size and you'll see what I'm talking about.



HERE is a link to the same picture even bigger....

First of many pictures, I hope...

I went to my mom's lot tonight, and took lots of pictures. Most contained "orbs", which, in outside pictures, I always write off to dust.
This is the only one that was unexplainable.
(click on it to see it larger)

The first one, I have nothing to say about. It is what it is... Whatever it is...


We were getting close to curfew, and had to get out of town. Will go back and do more later on.

Pictures...

This picture that I took in my mother's living room was picked for the ghosts pictures page of the Derek Acorah Website.

He is one of the guest psychics who occasionally appears on the "Most Haunted" television show.

We don't watch that show that often, because the host of the show, can't remember her name at the moment, drives me crazy...
She asks the spirits to give them a sign of their presence, and if anything happens, she screams her bloomin' head off... Stupid woman!! Don't ask if you don't want to know!!!!

Anyway... Thought that my pic being on the website was cool...

Interesting developments...

A friend of mine, who wishes to remain nameless, has been able to see "ghosts" since he was a child, sees them like real people, only they tend to walk through walls...

He says that he sees a lot more of them in Greensburg now... Do you think that spirits that were attached to houses were set free when the houses were destroyed by the tornado?

We are going to try an experiment soon with his vision and my camera....

Interesting blog...

A friend of mine sent me the link to "Scruffyhippo's Blog". Great blog...can't wait until I have time to read the archives!

Thanks, Moonshadow!

Sad news...

I just learned that psychic Peter James, of the Queen Mary fame, died July 31 of a heart attack. Read the story HERE.

I loved the investigation he did on the "Sally House" in Atchinson, Kansas.

Aftermath...

My mothers house in now gone, destroyed in the tornado, and the remains have been cleared, the basement filled in.
Where do ghosts go when the house is gone? Are they still attached to the land? There is one house left in the neighborhood... Will the spirits go there? I am hoping they raise the curfew in town before mom sells her lot. I would like to go take pictures, ask questions, see what answers I can record. I lived with those ghosts so long, it's like losing a member of the family, leaving someone behind.
Is it possible to invite spirits to live somewhere else? If they wanted to move on away from this plane of existence, they would have, right? There is a reason they are still here, and what makes them stay in a place? If they are attached to the land, they are still there. If they are attached to the house - where do they go? Are the forced to move on?

Branching out....

Just an interesting little note here...

There is a man here in town, that has lots of rental homes. He is a very type A, rich, self-righteous man. He told Rick that he had one house, that is scheduled to be demolished, that he will not go into at night. Rick asked if we could go in some night to take pictures, and use a recording device to try to record EVPs, and he said he would come into town some evening and unlock it for us!
Im sure this won't happen very soon, but I can't wait to get in there!

You can have your roller coasters, and bungee jumping.... THIS is my adrenaline sport!! LOL

Interesting Image

2am this morning, I got up to go to the bathroom.
I saw my camera on the desk, and thought, "What the heck?"
I went out, took one picture.
Then I said, out loud, "IF anyone here wants their picture taken, nows the time." and after a second or two, took another picture.
The first picture showed the typical orbs, like the last ones I took, including one that was much brighter than the others, and not see-through.
There was nothing reflected in the china cabinet.

The second picture, however, showed this, reflected in the glass:




Nothing had changed, from one picture to the next. Nothing around would have made that reflection, and nothing inside.
I got to looking at it, and I can sort of see a face...
Balding man, white collared shirt, black tie... Handlebar mustache... Looking to the left... Can you see that? Seems to be some sort of rope-like thing stringing out behind him, though... scary connections, there...

May be nothing... BUT....

THIS may help you see the face I see....

Emma: Reader Submission

Two Cents sent me this wonderful story. I think that spirits can really enhance our lives, and occasionally we seem to help them, too.
Thanks Two Cents, I love this!
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We've lived in many houses over the years. Most of them have had a spirit or two but the most memorable one was about 16 years ago. The house had sat empty for about 5 years but I was desperate to find a cheap place to live. The property manager agreed to do some basic work to make it livable and rent it to me at a decent price. The house itself was a two story/two bedroom, one for us, and one for our 2-year-old son. There was a small open area at the top of the stairs, which we used as a nursery for my newborn daughter. The first floor had a living room with recessed French doors, a dining room with the original build-in hutch and linen closet, a kitchen with a pantry and an entrance foyer. In the foyer was a large natural gas space heater. There was a dirt basement with an old coal chute under the house.



At one time, this had been a beautiful home and as I cleaned room after room, the beauty began to shine again. I noticed things moving from time to time, a rag I left in another room would appear next to me, and window cleaner I hadn't unpacked would show up on the kitchen table. With in a few days I became aware of "female" energy. She was happy and became more so as I brought this house back to life. Soon after I began to see the shape of an older woman, short and stout, dressed in a plain long dress with an apron. I asked her name and what I "got" was Emma. Every time I cleaned or cooked Emma would become more active, touching me or making little air whirl winds around my legs. It got so that I talked to her during the days, as if a friend were there visiting while I did my chores. She visited the children at night. More than once, I saw her over the baby's crib. My son talked about "the Lady" in his room. She would sit on his bed when he woke up in the night. He never seemed afraid of her mostly just comforted.



I was aware of other spirits but none made themselves overly apparent until winter set in. The space heater in the foyer was faulty and would shut it self off occasionally during the day and night. Days weren't too bad as one of us was always there to bleed the line and relight it but at night when it went out the house would get cold very quickly. As winter truly set in we began to hear footsteps during the night. Then they got louder and doors would be heard opening and closing. We finally figured out that one of the "males" was trying to heat the house. The doors were from the basement and the pantry. The footsteps were him trying to bring coal from the chute to the coal furnace that had once been in the pantry.



We ended up moving in the spring because the owner wouldn't fix the heater. Another family moved in after us but only lived there for 6 months and the family after that only made it a few months. It's been empty since then and is boarded over now. Neighborhood rumor has it the house is haunted by "evil" spirits and no one can live there for more that a little while. If I had the money, I'd buy that house and bring it back again. I miss Emma.
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We had a house that, althuogh I never "met" the spirits personally, had wonderful, welcoming spirits that blossomed as we fixed up the old house that had been vacant for years. The owner sold it, and they tore it down to build a cotton gin. I always wonder what happened to the spirits that were there.

The Basement

I think I will go area by area in this house, and tell you a few stories.
First, the basement.

Growing up, I spent 2 years living in the basement bedroom. I would wake up in the middle of the night, terrified, unable to move as if someone was holding me down. My sister and I have both heard voices, both of us have heard a baby cry, and both of us have seen human shaped shadows. My sister tried to stay in the basement bedroom; she didn’t even make it one night before moving back up stairs.
One afternoon I was downstairs taking a shower. I was the only one home, my sister was at our grandparent’s house, and my mom was at work. All of a sudden, a naked Barbie doll came flying over the shower door, hitting me in the head.
I jerked open the doors, but no one was there. I grabbed a towel and opened the bathroom door, but no one was in the next room, or going up the stairs.
Many times, I would go into my room and things were moved around.
Once after Rick and I got married, he was downstairs installing a new water heater. He put all his tools on top of the new water heater, and turned around to get something else. Seconds later, he turned back, and all his tools had been moved to the top of the old water heater.

Alice's Cats: Reader Submission

Here is a fabulous story written by Alice, from One Girl and Her Cats. I am so envious of her experience!
Thanks, Alice, for letting me use your story!

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The death of Mike’s grandmother has left things very raw inside of me. Memories both good and bad, wants, needs, questions, wonderings, regrets, fears; all are jumbled up together in my mind, sometimes making me happy, sometimes making me sad.

I have a picture on my desk.

It’s of two kittens cuddled up to one another in an old soft drinks crate lined with a thick woollen blanket. These kittens are Squealer and Jasmine. Squealer is almost certainly curled up on mum’s bed right now, dreaming about whatever it is cats dream.

Jasmine died a little over a year old after developing a rare blood disease that had lain dormant in her blood since birth.

Of course I missed her, madly, as did her sister, but life goes on, and gradually she became a happy but sad bitter-sweet memory.

That is, until the night she decided to return and pay me a visit.

Before y’all call the funny farm, it’s true. I was haunted by my dead cat.

Still am.

First time it happened it scared the life out of me:
I was asleep in bed one hot summer’s night and when I was suddenly aware of a cat walking up towards me (those with cats will know how they move when walking on a bed, paws indenting silently on the mattress) reached out a hand sleepily to stroke whoever it was.
And felt nothing.
Fair enough. No big deal. The cat had decided against it and jumped off.
I mentally shrugged and went back to sleep.
A few moments later; it happened again.
Again, I felt the paws, again I reached out, yawning. Again nothing.

Sighing, I closed my eyes again.
Only to have it happen once more.
This time the paws came all the way up the bed until whichever cat it was was right there next to me, and I was just drifting off again when the little bugger suddenly decided to touch my hot, bare skin with its exceptionally cold, wet nose.

That did it.

Sitting up I yelled at it to let me sleep - in my defense it was 1 O’clock in the bloody morning and I had had a very long day previously working my socks off in the Nursing Home - and I expected to hear the miscreant jump to the floor and leg it, but heard nothing.
Fully awake, I noted in the gloom that the door was closed.

Right. So that was it. Whoever it was wanted out.

Sighing and muttering things under my breath I wouldn’t care to repeat I got up and turned on the light. I would let the little git out once I had told it off (not that they cared. It would just make me feel better) and lectured it on the correct procedure for waking me up, which did NOT involve having a freezing wet nose poked at me at 1 in the morning...
I bent to look under the bed.
Nothing.
Oh.
Looking around the room, confused, I couldn’t see a cat anywhere. I peered under the bed again, this time pulling everything out. Nothing. Then I searched the entire floor. Nothing. Then I (now obsessively determined) checked in every nook, every cranny, every drawer, every box…Even the bookcase, flinging books behind me, and still nothing.

Bewildered, I shook my head.

Had I imagined it?

Exhausted, I tidied everything away (an excuse to check once more rather than a desire to be neat and efficient) and opened the door, meandering downstairs to grab a glass of water.
When I reached the hall I noted the living room door had shut itself – it does that sometimes if the back door is opened for whatever reason – and absentmindedly I opened it.
The light was still on, so I leant in to switch it off…

…And there they were. All three cats. Curled up asleep on the sofa.
I blinked at them in disbelief.

Walking back upstairs I rubbed the arm that I could have sworn the nose touched as I entered my bedroom, carefully checked none had followed me in and shut the door.

I must have imagined it, I conceded, doubtfully, flicking off the light and getting back into bed. After all, there was no possible way any of my three cats could have been in my room on my bed when every last one of them was asleep (and trapped) in the living room.

No, I must have imagined it. Slowly, my body relaxed and I began to drift off…

…Suddenly I started awake. It was maybe an hour later, and there it was again. I could feel the paws pressing silently onto the duvet beside my feet, feel the indents they made – was I going mad? Not one of the cats could be there, and yet there WAS a cat, on my bed.
Walking towards me.

I felt something soft and invisible brush against my upper thigh and started.
Fear washed over me.

…And then I heard it.

A purr.

It was a very quiet, very soft, gentle purr. A reassuring purr.
I knew it the second I heard it.

It was Jasmine.
MY Jasmine.
She was there with me, on the bed.
Happy.
And purring.

The fear melted away into pure, unadulterated joy.
For a few minutes I didn’t speak.

I felt her curl up, leant lightly against me, and lay down again.
A happy lump rose in my throat and tears filled my eyes.
“Goodnight, sweetie,” I whispered.

I reached down and felt nothing. But I knew she was there, and that night we both went to sleep happy, content, safe in the knowledge that the other was there.

When I woke up again she was gone.

It was months before she came again. But come she did, and this time when I felt the paws walk up the bed and reached out, I didn’t feel fear when my hand touched nothingness.

Just contentment.

She still visits. Not often.
But she does still visit.
When the girls are asleep in mum’s room, and Simba is roaming the night outside, I feel her paws treading the duvet and hear her purr. When that happens I feel happy that she’s still there, that she’s still with me, but at the same time feel cheated: it isn’t enough. I want her back.

But then, if Jasmine hadn’t died, we never would’ve gotten Simba, my darling, flabby little man, and possibly also would never have gotten Susie, either.

I guess life, and death, has its own agenda…

The Lady in the Hallway: reader submission

Here is my first submission from a reader! I should have known that my great friend Jason would be my first!
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The Lady in the Hallway

Right after we had gotten married in 1999, my wife and
I moved into a tiny crackerbox apartment right off the
American River in Sacramento, CA. We immediately felt
something else there. The apartment was powerful, it
has an energy of its own. And my wife and I are both
quite sensitive to that.

We believe that spirits are here, as well as lost or
confused ghosts. The only difference between her and I
is that she thinks they are “creepy”... and I don’t. I
find them absolutely fascinating! Now, in this
apartment of ours, we both just knew that there was an
energy field that was quite strong. Some call it
residual energy if it is repetitive, but this wasn’t
like that. This was a definite feel of a personality
with us. A woman, wearing a long dress and bare foot,
and she was always in our hallway.

Every once in a while, day or night, at any time my
wife or I or both of us would hear the sound of
footsteps going down our long hallway. Only it wasn’t
like boots-on-hardwood, but always like bare feet
making gentle presses on plush carpet. We strongly
“felt” that the spirit was a woman and was very sweet.
She would just walk down the hallway toward the
bedrooms.

If I were in one of the bedrooms, I would always have
a small feeling of happiness go through me after I
heard her coming, the way you would feel if someone
smiled at you in passing. Occasionally we would feel
her watching when we were in the front room (my wife
saw her face around the corner at least twice) or we
would feel her gaze through the doorway when we were
in the back bedroom. Apparently, the hallway was where
her “domain” was. There were never cold spots, but my
wife would sometimes feel the lady next to her when
she walked from the bedrooms to the front room. The
lady made my wife feel freaked, however, where I had
grown quite fond of her.

She once startled me, my wife, when she came running
into the bedroom and dove onto the bed next to me, her
eyes wide open. She explained while nearly
hyperventilating, that the lady had moaned in her ear,
as if trying to say something to her through the
thickness of a dream. So for the sake of my wife, I
reluctantly stood in the hallway and asked the lady
nicely, but firmly that she could remain, but to not
make her presence known to us. I also informed her
about “the light” just in case she didn’t know, and
how she could enter into it and that she had loved
ones there waiting for her.

Since that moment, neither myself or my wife have
heard or seen the lady. Which makes me kind of sad,
because I really liked her and I still miss her even
today. I would have liked to know her better.

In the back bedroom also, we had residual energy or
maybe it was passive ghost. I often felt watched when
I was in there, and it was usually ten to fifteen
degrees cooler, even if the afternoon sun was spilling
in. I don’t think my wife felt that, and no one else
did either to my knowledge. But I have felt it
strongly, so I placed a micro-cassette recorder in
there with a sensitive microphone and recorded for the
duration of the thirty minute tape.

The only odd things that I had heard on the tape were
the occasional whistle that changed in octave. The
sound only lasted for a half a second, but it is a
very audible, breathy whistle that went up in octave
like the first part of a wolf-whistle! That was
interesting, and normally I’d dismiss it if it weren’t
for some of our possessions being misplaced in our
apartment that suddenly turn up in odd places!

Our truck keys for instance quite suddenly disappeared
one morning without a trace anywhere. The truck was
searched over twice, and the apartment was turned
upside down. So I made duplicates at Home Depot, and
gave them to my wife, who used them to drive to a
doctor’s appointment that day. When the appointment
was over, she walked back out to the truck and opened
the door with the duplicate key. There on the driver’s
side seat was the original set of keys that were
missing, sitting upright at the edge of the seat, on
the tips of the keys and keychain as if carefully
placed there in a pyramid like fashion. She would have
certainly known if they were there before she went to
the appointment!

She called me at work in hysterics, telling me all
about it! I don’t mind spirits and ghosts being
around, and I sometimes consider them friends,
depending on how friendly they are. In my opinion,
ghosts are simply spirits without bodies. Some are
angry, some nice, and some are jokers! When you come
across one, respect him or her just as you would
another human being. Make friends with it or ask it to
leave. It’s your choice.

But never disrespect a ghost because of childhood
Halloween stories! They are intelligent people who are
a bit lost at the moment and confused about where they
are. Either that or what you are seeing is residual
energy that is playing itself over and over. In that
case, perhaps there are beds of quartz nearby or under
your feet. Quartz is a very good recorder of energy.
Lots of residual hauntings do happen around large
quantities of quartz or other such crystal rock.

If you happen to have one around you, simply ask it to
walk into the light where friends and loved ones await
them. Be firm, but friendly. Some spirits won’t
believe you and will continue to stay. Some will be
attracted to you because of the energy your own aura
has (inner energy). You can’t make a spirit go
anywhere, but perhaps it will help if you point it in
the right direction.
___________________________

Thanks so much, Jason. Amazing experiences!

Pictures

I decided to make a web page with all the photos I took last night.

Every night when we walk through this living room, it feels different. Some nights its not bad, other nights it feels like there are people sitting around, who stop what they are doing to look at you when you walk through. Last night, though, it felt like someone was right there next to me as I walked through, and it felt as though they were trying to grab my arm.

These PICTURES have not been altered, except in size.