She's not really here, it just looks like she is. What you're seeing is actually just a cardboard cutout that's been crudely scribbled on with a Sharpie to imitate Skyte's likeness. If you look closely, you'll see the smelly marker hair and the squiggle mouth are actually more attractive then the real Skyte.

I'm actually Skye's Evil Twin, Mr. Kumquat. Normally you only see me hanging around the smelly TPC basement (and when I manage to escape my lock-clad clubhouse basement room, the Forums) but today I managed to wheedle permission out of that good for nothing waste of skin Prana that dosen't let me have any fun, and she begrudgingly let me have the computer to post for Skyte. Skyte managed to get a bunch of sleep yesterday and now she's back at work slaving like a good girl. Oh alas, poor pathetic Skyte. :( Let's feel sorry for her while we snicker behind her back, shall we?

I just wanted to let everyone know that you can STILL sponsor Skyte (although I, myself wouldn't know why you would want to) until 6 AM tomorrow morning. So if you've got a couple extra bucks laying around, go on over and pledge it to a good cause would ya? It's damn better then what you were going to spend it on anyway. Kids these days. Why not forgo her and give me your money? Better yet, tell those damn girls to let me out of the Basement more often.

Also, prize announcements will be posted here tomorrow at noon. Winners will also be notified by E-mail. I've seen the prizes, and I wouldn't bother, but hey, if you want crap...by all means.

IBOM will be on hiatus for a tiny bit longer then Skyte thought because of what she called 'new and fun changes that have needed to happen for quite a while around here'. Never fear however, I'm sure she will be back being her disgustingly annoying self in no time. Oh, how I just can't wait.

-- Mr. Kumquat, Skyte's Evil Twin (Posting for Skyte because she's such a lazy twerp)


Well boys and girls, dawn has decided to finally show itself and all good little spooks and spirits are in bed for the day, so that concludes our little trip into the Paranormal during this years Blogathon. I've been your host, Skyte, for this lovely trip and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Please make sure to keep hands and feet inside the ride until the tram has come to a complete stop. Trashbins are located near each exit, so please remember to recycle. Visit the gift shop on your way out, to purchase some fabulous merchandise.

Thanks much to the people who kept me company during this whole thing, James, Kelly, Fred (You poop), Michael and everyone else, like Pranie, Jackie and Kim who popped in and out to check on me. Thanks also to my lovely sponsors whom if hadn't sponsored me I wouldn't be here typing incoherent garbage at you now. Thank you sponsors! We love you sponsors, and the ghosties love you too. Also, thank you to those of you who sent in questions, photos, stories and other fun things. You absolutely made posting go tons faster.

Once again I apologize for not being able to do this from the graveyard, but I hope you enjoyed yourself regardless.

Big grats to all the other bloggers who made it, I'll deffinatly be circling the ring as soon as my hate of this computer chair goes away. It might sound bonkers, but it is always so sad when this is all done. I absolutely can't wait until next year. Corse...now that the `Thon is done we can all prep for NaNoWriMo! MUHAHAha...ha....er...sorry.

Winners of the prizes will be announced here in 48 hours as well as getting a notice in their E-mail.

That's it, we're done. Finished. Kaput. Fin. Outta here. I'm headed off to take a nap before I have to go teach a class. I'll be on a short hiatus for the next couple days, so until I come back you take care, ya hear?
One last ghost story to give you something to do as the Blogathon slowly draws to a close.

Don't forget! Sign up to win a prize, if you don't sign up before 6 AM PST (when the thon ends) then you can't win.

One more post after this one boys and girls, just one more post.


From: nldd@msg.ti.com (LeAnne)
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
Subject: Our ghost - TRUE STORIES
Date: 11 Sep 1995 19:51:03 GMT

(c) 1995 Leanne Davis

My family moved last October into a Queen Anne victorian house that was built in 1894. The previous owners swore there were no violent deaths in the house (required by Texas law to divulge that info these days!) Actually, they claimed there were no ghosts that they were aware of either.

Two days after we put the Christmas tree up in the foyer, it was knocked over while my husband & I were at work & our son was at school. We lost all of our antique glass Christmas ornaments that were on the tree, many were family heirlooms. We were lucky the tree didn't fall when the space heater across the room was lit. I guess she didn't like where we put the tree & she didn't want her house to accidentally burn down. I just wish she'd made herself clear the day before I put all the ornaments on the tree. Yes, we think our ghost is female, and I'm still upset about my ornaments.

Very frequently last winter, I would smell apple pies baking, you know the strong smell of cloves & cinnamon - I haven't even had any cloves in the house yet & I haven't baked an apple pie in 4 or 5 years.

A couple of days later, we had an open house & the wife of one of the guys my husband works with swore we had more than one spirit in the house. There are photos of the people who built the house, hanging in the stairwell. Someone made the comment at the open house that she (the wife) was homely. So my husband spouted off also saying that she was ugly & that she had no right to knock our tree over & break the ornaments.

Not long after that, my husband was taking a bath in the upstairs bathroom (he's too tall for the claw foot tub downstairs). Anyway, he heard the door to the bathroom opening while he was soaking. His thought it was our son messing with him, so he hollered him. Our son was not upstairs, he was not even in the house. And, then my husband heard the bathroom door close and footsteps running down the hallway.

Then, one day they were watching TV and the dog (a cocker spaniel) went nuts barking. My husband followed her into our bedroom. The bedroom door (which normally tends to open & stay open - has to be pulled tight to latch as a rule) slammed shut and the dog lay down & hid her face with her paws & whimpered.

One of our pictures from Christmas morning shows a light blob where no light was present in the room in the pre-dawn (you know how kids get you up early to open presents.)

My husband apologized for calling the lady "ugly". And the "incidents" have stopped except for the apple pie smells (which we don't mind cause it smells good) and the dog barking at nothing we can see. We won't put the Christmas tree in the same spot this year - it will go in the cupola instead.

It's been interesting. We're hoping to do some more research on the house. I just found out recently it was empty for 25 years. The previous owners had it for 30. And the ones before that for about 6 years. We're the fourth family.
Here is another user submitted video.

Kwinana Cemetery Myst[MPG]

Only two more posts to go!
A ghost story for you to read while you're trying to stay awake.


From: Elena Gillespie (agillesp@umich.edu)
Date: Wed, 26 Oct 1994 16:37:45
Story-type: Haunting
Location: Detroit MI, U.S.A.
Source: Email Submission

THIS STORY IS TRUE. Not one item about it has been changed or exaggerated. I have related it exactly as it occurred to me.

Due to a paranormal experience that happened to me about five years ago, I spent two years as an apprentice to a psychic.(What do you think, we're all born this way?) I'm really a normal person,other than this particular eccentricity, I work in medical research, and I'm actually quite happy at it. But that's another story, if anyone would like to talk about it, (the apprenticeship, that is) I'd be glad to, but this is about ghosts.

It seemed like, frequently, that whenever we would have a lecture in class on a particular topic, I would have a practical problem presented to me through no effort on my part, and very little option available to me as to whether I wanted to turn it down. It was almost like having a laboratory to the lecture, only in metaphysics. Very weird.

We had had a lecture on ghosts (entities, as they're known in the trade) and what to do about them. I remember being buggy and disinterested in class, thinking that I would never have a practical use for this stuff. I just figured nobody got haunted anymore. I came to find out differently that very weekend.

That Friday I had taken off from work as a vacation day, intending actually just to hang out and do nothing. An older friend of mine dropped by, and off the cuff asked me out to dinner. During dinner, he mentioned that he would like to visit his daughter and her family, who lived in an older section of Detroit.

He mentioned that his daughter had since remarried, but that she had had a bad time the last 2 years. Apparently, her first husband, David, had become increasingly mentally unstable, with the usual scenario of threats, physical abuse, kidnapping the kids, the whole nine yards. Sounded like a fun guy. She managed to finally divorce him, but as you can guess, this only escalated the situation.

His enduring fixation was his son, who just now was turning 3 years old. Attempts to kidnap him and/or threaten to kill the child and himself were things they had to deal with everyday. Police and injunctions proved irrelevant. He was finally diagnosed schizophrenic and hospitalized a number of times. There wasn't anything that had much effect on him. The whole thing finally culminated in his breaking into their house one day while they were not there (they were supposed to be, of course), putting a .44 magnum in his mouth and pulling the trigger. End of story.

Or so I thought. When we arrived there, the house was in a uproar. The house itself was one of those huge houses they used to build in the suburbs of big cities that was so big that it had been split into a duplex. Nothing particularly creepy, just lots of wood, cabinet space, 2 floors and an attic. Maybe built in the 20's.

The neighbor(next door) had just that morning left the house in her nightclothes. She had left all her belongings, including her kids, inside the house, and absolutely refused to go back.(She left her kids? Sounds like the elevator doesn't go all the way to the top with that one, I thought.) She said she had seen a blond longish-haired man at the top of the stairs. The main problem, however, is that he had a hole in his head. A big hole. With his eyes all sunken back and what looked like blood all over him.

Apparently, this had not been the only occurence, only the last in a long list of incidences. The little boy claimed to have seen his father a number of times, next to his bed, always at night. Things had been broken, as if thrown, and worse still, small fires had broken out under mysterious circumstances. In one instance, a portrait of Elvis had been torn off the wall and thrown across the room, shattering the glass and leaving holes in the wall. Apparently her ex had been incredibly jealous, but I couldn't say I blamed him on that one. The family was in a panic. They were planning to move, but could not move yet. (I would have been out of there so fast I would have broken records.) The Catholic priest the daughter had just talked to had just laughed at her when she said she needed an exorcist and hung up on her.

Suspecting what was going on,the daughter had taken a picture of David to the neighbor, who was at a hotel. The woman went into hysterics and had to be taken to the ER and sedated. It was the same man, of course, just without the ventilation job he'd done on his head.

She asked me if somehow I knew of anyone who could remove this whatever this was. Oh, for Pete's sake, I thought, somebody up there really has a sense of humor. Well, yes, I told her, fully intending to recommend her to my teacher. I really had no intention of getting involved with this. I was just a student, and this was not my specialty, anyway. It sounded to me like this guy was dead serious (sorry) and far more powerful than I wanted to mess with. My teacher had impressed this on us. You had better know what you are doing, and be completely confident in your ability. I was not convinced that I was either one.

I was about to give her my teacher's card when she told me that there had been further complications. Her little boy had come to her after a nap that afternoon in hysterics, bleeding from the mouth or gums. He gave a garbled story about his father wanting him to go with him and the child refusing to go back in his room for any reason. (Showed the most sense I'd seen in the family yet.)

That did it. I reasoned that if this a------ had this much balls, then there was no accounting for what he might do between now and the time my teacher could get out there so I was sort of beholden to do something NOW. Great. I'm shaking just remembering this story, so bear with me.

One of my strongest abilities lies in feeling (sensing) the presence of spiritual entitities. It's kind of like passing a magnet through iron filings, I just kind of get oriented towards it. So I knew I would be able to locate him, the big question, of course was removal.

The power to do these things exists in the mind, which can be as powerful or weak as you tell it to be. Building up the energy and keeping it pumped up can be difficult, and I had never applied it to this kind of problem before. However the thought of that little boy being harmed forced me to try.

The trick is this. Essentially, what you do is try to make it as uncomfortable for the entity to continue "living" there, and then persuade it to go "to the light". At this point, it has to make it's own choice as to whether it should "go across" or whether it wants to stay here. Sometimes, they just don't know they're dead. Other times they are so bound to unfinished business that they stay to finish it, like this guy was. The fact that this guy was severely mentally disturbed when he died didn't help my confidence levels any.

The first thing we did was have a prayer vigil in the kitchen while I went around and mentally covered everything with ultraviolet light. This is God's color and He is Light, so nothing can penetrate such a shield. I covered everything, the house and family, the pets, the appliances, their cars, all of it. We then went down to the basement (which was open to both apartments) and blessed all the doors and windows, ALL of them with olive oil in Jesus' name. Whether you believe in Him or not, he was one extremely spiritually powerful person, and negative entities DON'T like Him, and cannot withstand Him. So we went through the entire house, both sides, laboriously blessing every door, window and mirror in the house. All the while I was building up the energy to make the place as light filled as possible.

The place seemed "cool" to me in the basement even though it was kind of old and creepy. But as we went farther and farther upstairs, the I started feeling more and more aware of the "energy" being pulled into the attic. I knew where he was and he definitely knew where I was, and that I was coming to get HIM. I was fervently hoping he'd split before I got there. But the thought of that little boy really forced me to stay with it.

How can you tell this without sounding crazy? I'd come to the conclusion that I had come there that day for a reason, and to just go with it. The sense of "presence" was strongest of course in the little boy's room, which had a trapdoor in the ceiling up to the attic. The whole front of my body was tingling, particularly my face and nose. I could palpably sense the misery, hatred and insanity from just above me.

How I managed to get up there and that trap door open I have no idea. I was running on adrenaline but I really wasn't frightened. I had gathered my guides and angels around so tightly I think I nearly glowed in the dark. At this point I think I really was in an altered state.

Something fell or flew from somewhere and landed at my feet. It was a headless, naked child's doll. I remember thinking coolly, how cliche'. At another level I was wondering how I had gotten myself into this. In the corner was absolute blackness, and what I was looking for, this I KNEW. Someone began speaking. I realized it was me.

"Now, David, you know that you really have no place here. You're dead, and your family needs to go on with their lives, particularly your little boy. Let go, David, I know you're miserable, let go and go to the light. There is peace there, wouldn't you like that? My guides and angels are here to take you there, go with them. This house is completely protected now, everything, and I'm sure it's very uncomfortable for you. If you don't go, you know who I'll invoke, so go with them."

Ultimately, my feeling for this poor lost soul was one of pity, I cannot express to you the level of misery and pain it existed in.

Suddenly, I got a sense of release of tension, almost like a wind blowing, and the room became somehow less menacing, less dark. I stayed there for a minute longer, just until I was sure I wouldn't fall down the ladder trying to get down. My analytical mind kicked in, and responded by wanting to pass out. When I came back down, I just told the family that he was gone, but that they would have to believe that he was gone, and reinforce that daily, or all my lightwork would disintegrate and he would come back. That's the thing about this kind of work. If they don't go "to the light", and you don't reinforce your shields, they can come back.

They had no more problems in that house for quite some time, although I had heard from a friend later that David did come back, so he still has not found peace. The neighbor never set foot in her house again.

So you said you wanted a ghost story. There you are. Sometimes I wonder if it actually happened, and uncomfortably the answer is always the same. Other strange things have happened to me as a psychic student, and the thing is, I'm not even half trained yet. Makes me wonder what's next.
New photos and a new featured sound. This one is another one which I couldn't identify. I'd be more then happy to hear your suggestions!

Congrats to our winner of the 4 AM drawing, James Hall. He just walked away with a taper candle set. Woo!

You have until 6 AM PST to get in your entries to get a chance at winning the rest of these prizes, so don't forget! Either fill out the form above (get to it by clicking on the 'junk' graphic) or by sending an email to me@kiddlets.com with your real name, postal address and e-mail address.

Good luck and only four more posts to go!
Fixed the weird noises wav...now it should work fine. Sorry about that.
Here is an awesome video of a moving orb that was sent in by a viewer.

York Orb[MPG]

We've got some new pictures and a new featured sound coming up, as well as the 4 AM drawing. If you want a chance to win, don't forget to submit your name, e-mail address and postal address to me@kiddlets.com.

This hails from Prana over at Pranagraphy, it's a 'weird' sound. Unfortunatly I didn't get any details about it, but it's interesting sounding anyway!

Weird Noises[WAV]

Not enough ghost stuff for you? Here is a user submitted photo. This one comes from Clay and it's way interesting.

Ghost Photo

Clay says that the only two people in the room were himself and the other person in the picture, and the house in which this was taken has a history of activity such as lights turn on and off and doors banging.

Thanks to you both! If you have a photo, sound, or story you want to share just send it my way me@kiddlets.com and I'll feature it here.

Up next, some really awesome viewer submitted video!

A ghost story for you. Next post? User submitted sounds! Woohoo!


From: myers@netusa1.net
Date: Fri, 22 Mar 1996 14:53:33 -0600
To: obiwan@netcom.com
Subject: ghost story

I have lived in my house for 20 years. The house was built around 1950 and sits in a housing development that was built on, what was, farm land. As far as I know, no one has died in this house (I did check the history). But for some unknown reason we have unexplained happenings in the house. They seem to revolve around my son and myself.

The first scary experience I had happened shortly after my son's birth. He started crying around 2:00 a.m., I got up, went into his room, picked him up and then went into the kitchen to warm his bottle. My kitchen is a galley kitchen with a door at one end that leads to the garage. I fixed his bottle, then went back into his room to feed him. I was rocking him and not thinking about much, other that I wanted to go to sleep, when I felt a cold breeze behind me. I looked up and saw nothing. Then I felt this terrible presence in the room. I jumped up and turned....the cold and the presence were gone. I was shaken for a bit, but then convinced myself I had imagined what had just happened. I finished feeding my son and put him back to bed. I walked into the kitchen to put the bottle up and the door between the kitchen and the garage was standing wide open. I was truly frightened. My husband was working midnights at the time, so I was alone with my infant son, in the house. I, being very brave, ran to his room, picked him up, took him to our room and locked the door. When daylight came and my husband came home we searched the house and of course could find nothing missing, broken into etc. My husband thought I was one brick short a load.

Over the next few months we would hear thumping on the walls, (my husband heard these noises too, but believed the house was settling). We would hear something fall and even make a crashing sound, but would never find anything on the floor or broken. But nothing really scary happened until my son was around 2 years old. From the start he never liked to sleep in his room. I realized that wasn't unusual for a child, so I would try things like leaving the hallway light on or playing music in his room, etc. But he would always come into our bedroom in the wee hours and say he was frightened. When he finally reached the age where he could put sentences together I asked him why he was frightened. He said a lady was at his window. I assured him he was probably dreaming and explained how our imagination could fool us. Well, a few months later I was asleep and something woke me. I lay there a minute listening for my son and when I didn't hear him I opened my eyes. Standing at my bedroom window looking out was a woman. She had on a dress like someone would wear in the 1800's, not a fancy dress, but one that a person would wear for everyday. Her hair was pulled back into a bun. I closed my eyes and opened them several times before I realized I really was seeing someone/thing. She turned and looked at me and then vanished. Needless to say I believed my son from then on. The interesting thing here is, I wasn't afraid of her, unlike the first experience I had when my son was a baby.

After that night, unusual things happened more frequently, although it wasn't unusual for 3-6 months to go by and nothing would happen. We would go in cycles where lights would go off and on, the phone would jingle every night around 9:00, the smoke detectors would go off, the dryer door would fly open, I would come home from work and hear music being played on my son's keyboard (he would be at school). And many other happenings that would be too much to write.

This has been going on for years now. It is interesting that I've only been frightened 2 times, the 1st time I mentioned when my son was little and the 2nd time was when my son was around 9 years old. My husband and son were watching TV after dinner, I had just finished the dishes and decided to take the trash out into the garage. I carried it out, but didn't turn the light on in the garage because the kitchen light was bright enough to light my way. I emptied the trash and when I turned to come back into the house I heard a voice, as clear as a bell, say my name and I felt that terrible presence. The hair stood up on y neck, I ran into the house and told my husband there was someone in the garage. He ran to the garage and of course nothing was there.

After I thought about that incident, I remembered a time when I was little and I heard the very same voice call my name. My father use to wake up at odd hours and not be able to go back to sleep. He had a reading light over his bed and would read until he could go back to sleep. We had a game we played. If I awoke and saw his light on, I would run into the livingroom and hide, I would call out to him, he would come find me. Well, on one of those nights (the last time I hid), I found my hiding place which was about 5 feet from a window. I looked up and an old man was looking at me and called my name.(I remember it as being the same voice I heard in the garage). I honestly thought that incident had all been my imagination until the night in my garage.

My sone is 19 and in college. I asked him a couple of years ago exactly what he saw in his room when he was little. He said first there would be a bright orange ball of light in his window, then the light would come into his room and spread out like a line. Then the lady would appear from the light. He said she never said anything to him, but just stood in his room. I'm wondering now if the lady was a protector for my son. There were/are two beings in our house. One that was frightening and the other was not.

Things have slowed down some now, but ocasionally a thump or a crash will remind me we aren't alone in our house.
Only four hours left boys and girls! Can we do it? Yes we can! ::hums the Bob the Builder theme song::
New pictures and a new featured sound.

My wrist is killing me, so that's all you're going to get from me for right now. Up for the rest of the `Thon, a few more ghost stories, a few more new pictures and sounds, a drawing or two, and finishing up the questions that have been laying around here waiting patiently. Good times.
Unfortunatly hunger and madness has forced me to this.

I, and the bits between my teeth, are so ashamed.
Congrats to Kane Ford, our 1 AM winner who walks away with a lovely set of vanilla pillar candles.

Next drawing will be at 4, get your entries in. And hurry it up, I'm running out of things to entertain myself with.
Date: Mon, 12 Feb 1996 20:48:26 -1000
To: ghost-stories@netcom.com
From: chips@lava.net (Jerry Monti)
Subject: Haunted lighthouse

I would like to share with you an experience that I had several years ago while working on a lighthouse on lake Superior.

Standard Rock Light House is located on a shoal about 30 miles from the nearest point of land. it is constructed on a hollow cylinder of concrete reinforced with a belt of steel . which rises about 30 feet out of the water. It has not been occupied since about 1961. It was in this year that a fatal accident occurred to the lighthouse keeper and his crew. Somehow the kerosene tanks that fueled the fog signal exploded, what followed was a fire so intense that it actually consumed part of the stone structure. the only way that some of the crew survived was to hang over the side of the structure suspended by lines. It was several days before the crew was rescued, and then only because a vessel passing at night had reported the light extinguished.

In the spring of 1993, our unit was tasked with making repairs to Standard Rock light house prior to the Coast Guard turning it over to the National Park Service. After loading the suitable materials on board we steamed from Duluth MN enroute the lighthouse, the trip over was uneventful , however as soon as we arrived at the light the weather began to deteriorate. Eventually it began to blow so hard that we had to drop the anchor and ride it out. after two days of this the weather calmed sufficiently for us to launch a small boat to take the work party over. We made the light, off-loaded our supplies, and went to work. This was about 2 or 3 in the afternoon. By 5 the weather started to turn bad again, the ship wanted to bring us back but we decided to stay the night, finish the job, and hope that we could get back to the boat the next day.

The job ahead of us was big but simple, fix what needed to be fixed, clean and paint. Each of us had a task to do, I was on the main level , several of the crew were on the top level , and the rest of the crew was scattered about. When I finished my job, I went down to the keepers kitchen where my friend Jeff was working to give him a hand. As we worked the talk turned to the fire that the had occurred at the light and of the fate of the three keepers. One level below us was the bottom of the light . When we first came aboard the light we all walked through it to check it out . This area reminded me of catacombs , one main chamber with tunnels leading in different directions. Cold, dark and damp it was not a very comfortable place to be. Around seven Jeff and I decided to take a break. I walked over to the door leading to the lower level. opened it and called down jokingly "hey George we're going up for a bite to eat , want any thing?" Immediately sounds could be heard in the level below, scraping knocking, but the most chilling were the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. Jeff and I looked at each other, his eyes were as large as Volkswagen head lights, I bet mine were just as big. not saying a word we both raced up the stairs to the main level.

We ate our dinner, calmed down and decided that we had imagined the whole thing, Jeff related the story to the rest of the crew and everyone had a good laugh. Jeff took another job on a different level and we all went back to work. About 11:15 a couple of the guys suggested going down to the basement at midnight to see if anything would happen, I really didn't want to but not wanting to be branded a coward , I agreed to anyway. At midnight 5 of us made our way in to the basement , we called out, shut the lights off and waited. We didn't hear anything but I sure felt something , the hair was standing up on the back of my neck , I swear I could feel something moving around us. I'm sure that I was not the only one either. When nothing appeared we went back upstairs to the keepers quarters. As soon as we were all out of the basement the sounds started again. The five of us just stared at each other, until the footsteps started coming up the stairs again. At this point there was total chaos as we all tried to get up the stairs at the same time. as luck would have it I was the last in line, as I was going up the stairs I glanced back and saw just for an instant a shadow with no definite shape emerge from the basement door.

Nobody said much , we just went back to work. when we finished it was about three in the morning. we moved up to the upper level of the light and tried to get some sleep. I wasn't easy because for the rest of the night we heard everything form banging on the walls to distant moans. When the sun finally came up and we went back downstairs we found that some of our gear had been scattered around, and a garbage can had been turned on it's side and looked like somebody, or something had jumped up and down on it. I don't know what caused this, but of this I'm certain...it wasn't of this earth
That post, was supposed to be this post, so it counted for my midnight post.

However, since that post delibertally disobeyed me and posted itself before I said it could post itself I had to make this post my midnight post.


New photos and a new sound. Very faint sound, sounds like whispering. What kind of sound does it sound like to you?
From: Deena_Gitaitis@notes.ymp.gov
To: ghost-discuss@aurora.cdb.com
Date: Tue, 1 Apr 1997 13:00:18 -0400
Subject: Cry-baby Bridge

This story is one more piece of Northeastern folklore I've heard over the years. The actual bridge is in Maryland (within an hour of Baltimore, closer to Annapolis). I originally heard the story from a friend of mine who has actually been to the bridge. (A *little* bit better than the classic "friend of a friend", I guess.) She is not sure if she experienced actual "phenomena" -- or if she was unconsciously fulfilling pre-existing expectations. Here's the story:

Legend has it that there was a young woman, 17 years old, in the 70's living in this area of Maryland. Her family was very conservative (in some versions, her father was a preacher). Well, she had a bit of a wild streak, and liked to drink and smoke cigarettes (tobacco and otherwise). There was one particular boy she took a fancy to, perhaps because he fit her roguish image, and they began dating. Soon, she became pregnant. Knowing that her father would be very upset, and probably throw her out of his house -- she became distraught. She asked her boyfriend for help, only to learn that he wanted nothing more to do with her or the baby. If she tried to press matters, he would deny that he had fathered the child. Seeing no other choice, she decided to stay with an aunt in Virginia for a while. She hoped that once the baby was born, her father would soften up and take her and the child back into his home.

The aunt was sympathetic, but firmly told her that she could only stay until the baby was born. The aunt had many children of her own, and didn't feel she had enough space for two more. The girl agreed. All went well, and she had a healthy baby 8 1/2 months later.

One night soon after, she packed up their few belongings, worked up her courage, and left for her father's house. There, things took a turn for the worse. He was furious that she had not told him all this time. What made him even angrier was the public scandal this would cause. He viciously berated (and some say beat) her until she ran from the house in fear of her life. She took her baby with her. Hysterical, she had no idea where to run, and ended up at a nearby bridge. Looking down into the cool black water, sparkling in the moonlight, she began to see an answer to her problems. At the time, it must have seemed like the only solution. She and the baby would leave this miserable life together. As they plunged into the forgiving waters, they did just that. The bodies were never found.

If you go to the bridge on a cool dark night; especially if you're in emotional pain or distress, it is said that the baby's cries can be heard. Some say they are carried by the cold wind; others say they emanate from the depths of the cool water. No matter, they are reportedly unmistakable.

Now for my friend's experience:

She and another female friend went late one November night. It was still warm for that time of year, but seemed to get nippier once they got closer to the water. (No surprise there, as humidity generally makes the air feel cooler). She said that she was in fine spirits, but that her friend had just broken up with a boyfriend and was pretty miserable. The parked, got out of the car, and walked to the middle of the bridge. She said they had been there for about ten minutes when the wind kicked up. Her friend immediately heard cries that she believes to be those of the baby. My friend said that she herself thought the wind sounded very strange, sorrowful and whiney -- but that she wouldn't call it the unmistakable cries of a baby. They both agreed that the place was depressing, and making the second friend's sadness intensify, so they left.

This story reminds me of "La Llorona" which I know had been discussed on afg. I believe there was also a song written about this story featuring a different part of the country. Can anyone think of local legends similar to this from other parts of the country? I've only heard it about Maryland and points South.
Wow, the format on that last story is horrid. I'm sorry.
SaetanSadiablo: I got worried for a second.
SaetanSadiablo: I found a website that had deaalings in 'boy scouts' and it also had dealings with 'alternate lifestyles.' And was worried that it was a place breeding homophobes.
SaetanSadiablo: I had to check it out.
angrypsychokel: eep
SaetanSadiablo: It is safe for the gay youth of tomorrow. Farewell!
SaetanSadiablo: ::SuperFag flies off in the distance::
angrypsychokel: *lol*
RheaRhyolin: lol
Trinity Episcopal church haunting in San Francisco
By: Paulroger2@aol.com

Trinity Episcopal Church was built in 1892 and sits on the corner of Bush and
Gough Streets. In San Francisco. It is a large stone gothic church that was
designed after the Durham castle in England.

I have been a sexton (caretaker) for the church for about the last 10 years.
Meals on wheels have started their program of feeding approximately 160
elderly folks around the neighborhood at our church. Monday through Friday
between 11:30am and 1:30pm the dining room is full of elderly people and it
is a good way to utilize the space.

However, two of the kitchen workers have quit shortly after starting. They
only lasted a few days when on two separate occasions they became frightened.
One worker was going up the steps to the hallway when he suddenly saw a
ghost, sort of like a grey entity or shadow of a figure coming out of the
men's bathroom. and disappear through the wall on the other side of the hall.
The other worker saw it again on another occasion near the entrance to the
kitchen from the hallway.

We used to have a 7-day candle on the healing alter that burned 24 hours a

When Paul, who is the other sexton, and I would come in to clean on Monday
morning, the candle would always be out and I or Paul would always have to
relight it. It never went out on any other day and their are two other 7 day
candles in the church that burn 24 hours a day, but they never went out like
this one did. every Monday it would be out. We thought it must be a draft
somewhere, funny though the draft always happened between Sunday afternoon
and Monday morning.

I saw it one evening in the church when I was vacuuming near the chapel
alter. It looked like a 3 dimensional shadow of a human figure and it came
down the steps and went right passed me. Startled by it, I turned off the
vacuum and swiftly made my way down stairs calling out for Paul. I made him
come back up with me to investigate my experience with the ghost. We sat in
one of the front pews and waited silently for a while but nothing else
happened that evening.

One time, it was late afternoon, I was straightening all of the kneelers
pushing them all underneath the pews. When I walked down the middle aisle I
was checking that all the kneelers were in straight rows. About halfway down
the church in one of the rows, one of the kneelers was pushed out from the
rest of the kneelers. This kneeler looks different from all the rest and is
sort of an oddball kneeler and I distinctly remember pushing that kneeler
under the pew. I was startled by what I saw, but I went over and pushed it
back underneath the pew. no one else was in the Sanctuary with me and Paul
was cleaning the rooms downstairs at the time.

On still another occasion It was a Sunday Morning, people from the 8:00am
service had left and the Father Michael had gone into the Rector's office to
chat with Father Cromey. I was again vacuuming the carpet in the Sanctuary
of the Church when the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I turned
around and saw a tall slender figure wearing an off-white linen suit and he
was across the aisle in the other section of pews but he was standing their
facing me, and as I started to focus on his face he vanished right before my
eyes. I was not startled this time because I sensed the figure was not
trying to frightened me. I turned off the vacuum and paused for a few minutes
and looked all around the church, hoping to get a glimpse of the ghost again,
but I didn't and I continued with my vacuuming.

One time, it was about 10 in the evening and I was mopping the bathrooms in
the ambulatory, (a curved half-circle hallway where the church offices are
located), and minutes before, I had come out of the room where the cleaning
supplies are kept. As I began mopping one of the bathrooms I heard like a
man's footsteps coming from that room. I stopped mopping and the footsteps
went down the hallway passed the bathroom doorway and I could see out into
the hallway and I saw nothing as the sounds of the footsteps walked passed
and continued to the other end of the hall. I was frozen stiff and couldn't
move. Again, the hair on my neck stood up and I flung the mop aside and ran
downstairs yelling for Paul.

Sometimes when I am in the men's bathroom downstairs all alone. I often feel
like someone is watching me.

This is where other people have observed a grey shadowed figure standing in
the hall just outside of the men's restroom.

Other people have had similar experiences too within the walls of this old
church built in 1892.

There is a crypt under the church where the founder, Rev. Flavel Mines is
buried. and we also have the columbarium in the Sanctuary of the church that
holds the remains of about twenty people.

Another time, about eight in the evening, our neighbor Andy went out to
dinner with us, we took him to a little cafe located near the church. So we
parked in the church parking lot. When we came back from the cafe, I took
Andy into the church to show him around. We came down the backstairs and
into the hall, when Andy suddenly said frantically, "what is that!" When I
looked down the hall I didn't see anything, but Andy described a grey shadowy
looking figure near the Men's restoom door in the hall, it had vanished by
the time I looked. I never told him about the ghost until he saw it himself,
because lately, I have sort of forgotten about it.

But with this recent occurrence with the two kitchen workers, it's reminded
me about my ghostly experiences here and I know that it is continuing.
I said out loud one time to the ghost, that I didn't want to be startled by
it or to hear it anymore and for me it seemed to stop. but who knows, one of
these days or nights, it's going to give me another startle when I least
expect it.

I think it's fun because I know that the ghost is not mischievious and is
just trying to get to another part of the church when people come around. So
I guess it's a lonely ghost. probably a church member from long ago. or
someone that used to attend one of the support groups that go on every
evening in the dining room. I don't know.

But when I have had my experiences with the ghost or ghosts, at the time, I
wasn't thinking about anything spooky when it happened. so I know I didn''t
imagine it. I'm usually thinking about other things and not anything to make
myself get spooked.

And the kichen workers didn't know anything about the ghost prior to their
ghostly experiences there.
Here is a fun (ok, weird) ghost themed game for your late night `Thonning enjoyment.

Feed the hungry ghost game - if you don't get how to play this game, you should just give up now. It entertained me for all of two minutes.

It's going to be a long night.

New pictures and sound updates will now change from every hour to every two hours to accomidate the fact that I'm running out of pictures and sounds. Also, because I'm abhorrently lazy.

Until then, here is the winner for the 10 PM drawing. Congrats to Skye who wins a starter collection of purdy crystals. No, I'm not giving away driveway gravel, although I could if you wanted me to.

Next drawing will be at 1 AM, so make sure you enter by sending me an E-mail with your name, postal address and E-mail.
Reposted from another site here is another ghost story Copyright 2003 by Chris Ullman.


If the ghost lights in Marfa, Texas, are thought by many observers to be a bit mysterious, then the anomalous lights witnessed by hundreds of individuals in the skies above the Yakima Indian Reservation in south-central Washington state over the past thirty-plus years have got to be considered downright frightening to say the least.

This sparsely populated reservation is 3,500 miles square, resting snugly between rugged wilderness to the west and flat lands to the east. In the late 1960s many individuals on the reservation, among them forest rangers, fire-control personnel and everyday residents of the area, began reporting the movement of bright white lights across the sky late in the evening. These reports were subsequently filed with the chief fire control officer at the time, W.J. (Bill) Vogel, who by his own admission didn't pay much attention to the reports initially. One night as he was on patrol in the region, Vogel saw movement in the sky above a hill on Toppenish Ridge, which cuts through the reservation's east-central sector.

Spending over ninety minutes at the site viewing this strange object in the sky, Vogel took a series of still photographs and wrote some detailed notes describing what he had seen. And in the blink of an eye this one-time skeptic found himself engrossed in an aerial phenomenon that defied explanation. According to his notes, the light was not an aircraft, and had no discernible lateral movement. The object had an obvious teardrop shape, with the small end pointed upwards. It was brilliantly white in the center, surrounded by fluorescent tan or light orange edges and a halolike glow. A mouselike tail or antenna protruded from the top of the object; this antenna was reportedly divided into segments of red, blue, green and white colors which constantly rotated and changed in intensity and hue.

This would turn out to be the first of a number of late-night encounters between Vogel and this luminously brilliant light. The air force soon got wind of the goings-on near Toppenish Ridge, and after persuading the reservation's tribal leaders to allow them to do so, investigators swiftly descended on the reservation with a truckload of monitoring equipment and cameras in tow. Footage was shot, data was gathered, and everyone involved in that initial investigation -- and in all of the subsequent investigations as well -- left the area knowing little more about the phenomenon than when they first arrived.

The oddest reports recorded by fire lookouts involved apparent telepathic communication between the witnesses of the strange lights and some unknown entity. Although most of the sightings involved seeing the lights at a great distance, on occasion a number of viewers to the phenomenon, many of them fire lookouts themselves, reported "hearing" a voice in their heads that told them to stay back in order to avoid serious injury. One lookout on the reservation saw a shaft of bright purple light shining down around her cabin. When she made an attempt to go outside and investigate, she reported feeling a bizarre sensation that somehow prevented her from doing so. She claimed to feel an intensely odd force as if two magnets were repelling each other in order to block her egress from the cabin. Troubled, but apparently allowing her courage to outweigh her common sense, she even tried running across the cabin and launching herself at the doorway, but could not pass through it.

Many witnesses of these lights have reported experiencing a strong intuitive notion that they were seeing something they were not supposed to be seeing, and many have found that once they actually get to the reservation and see the display, they are compelled to immediately remove themselves from the presence of the lights that they have come to investigate.

Reports of encounters with craftlike structures and alien beings have also been filed at the reservation, most of them claiming involvement on some level with skinny, long-haired, long-nosed humanoids...
Here's another story.


Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
From: brianbet@camalott.com (Brian Bethel)
Subject: A Television Tale o' Terror.
Date: Fri, 19 Aug 1994 04:01:42 GMT
My Strange and Terrifying Television Experience

Okay. Here's the scoop. (Yes, we newspaper types really do say that!)

Long ago when I was about four or five, I stayed over at my grandparents' house for the night. My Mom stayed over with me, because Dad was out of town on business.

Granny and Granddad quite enjoyed their television programs, and had a set in each of the two bedrooms in the house, as well as in the living room. I was still stupid enough to believe TV's flickering, mind-sucking images were pretty neat, so I was in he aven.

Night came on softly, as it only can when you feel safety and warmth around you. With one of Granny's home-cooked meals in my stomach, I had begun to feel the need for slumber. So, we all piled in the monstrous king-sized bed in Granny and Granddad's mas ter bedroom, and soon we were all snoring blissfully.

I woke up in the night and sat upright, looking around. Something had disturbed my slumber. Granddad was still snoring rhythmically, and Granny looked like she hadn't budged an inch, so I sat back and prepared to visit the realm of dream once more.

Then the television turned itself on.

Now, I'm only 22 years old, but this was in the days when remote controls were the providence of the wealthy and debased. Granny and Grandad did not fit into any of those two categories.

To see a television turn itself on was an interesting thing. I sat up again to see what would come on.

At that time, the TV in my grandparents' bedroom was a black and white. I watched the white dot that had formed in the middle expand to full screen, but only the static of a dead channel appeared.

Then, images began to appear.

I couldn't really describe them. They were sort of shadowy things at first, but they seemed to be -- for lack of a better term -- "scoping me out." Slowly, an actual image began to appear.

Muppets! The Muppets were on! I was exalted, elated. I wanted to wake my grandparents up, but I then started to feel a bit uncomfortable about what was happening on the television.

Muppets did not usually have fangs as I recall. At least, not ones that looked so ... real and out of place in an otherwise standard Muppet-style mouth.

I realize this is sounding goofy. You were warned. :)

Well, uncertain about what to do, I decided to keep a close watch on the television.

The "Muppets" looked at me. It was common of course on Sesame Street and the Muppet Show for them to acknowledge the audience, so I wasn't alarmed so much by that.

I describe these things as Muppets because that's primarily what they looked like. Other than the rows and rows of unusual teeth, one looked vaguely Groveresque and the other sort of reminded me of Harry the Monster (don't know if he's even ON Sesame Str eet anymore).

The Groveresque Muppet leaned over and pointed at me, while whispering something to his companion. They looked at me in unison, whispering all the while in a strange, unusually guttural tongue. It sounded completely random, although it did somehow seem t o follow the meter and pattern of a language.

I noticed when the Groveresque Muppet pointed, he had very long, distinct talons on his furry hands. This, too, was quite disturbing.

The Muppets began to dance, sing and cavort about in that strange language of theirs. It was sort of amusing, I recall. I began to feel a bit more at ease.

The Muppets motioned for me to come forward.

I shook my head.

The Muppets tried again.

I shook my head. I was beginning to feel frightened. If there ever was a way Muppets could look pissed, these guys were doing it. With all those rows of fangs, it wasn't pretty.

I should mention that all of this singing, dancing, cavorting horror that was going on seemed to in no way disturb my grandparents. This disturbed me as well, because these guys were LOUD.

I got out of bed and crept into the living room, being careful to avoid approaching the screen. The Muppet-things wore visages of absolute anger now, motioning violently for me to approach the screen. My attempts rouse my grandmother and grandfather were in vain; they would not stir.

I ran into the living room, crying. I collapsed in my Granddad's chair, buried my face into the fabric, and began to weep, certain doom had come for me.

I looked over at the television in the corner of the living room. It had already begun to turn itself on, the shadow-forms that had dissolved into the Henson-styled horrors already beginning to flicker across its surface.

I screamed, rooted to the spot. But as the scream left my lungs and two grinning, fanged faces burst into being on the television screen, faintly and then with increasing tempo I heard footsteps.

The things in the television looked worried, swirled into their shadow-forms and were gone.

The television winked out just as my Mother ran into the room.

After consoling me, we went to check on Granny and Granddad. They were both awake, and had heard me scream.

We all sat up for a while talking, and eventually the warmth and love returned to fill the chill in my soul.

I went to bed and nothing more happened that night. Or any other night I stayed with my grandparents.

A waking dream? Probably so. But one that still fills me with terror.

I was awake of course, Mom will still assert, when I was in the chair. So, I did move somehow from the bed to the chair.

Still, it gives one pause. What better way to snare a young boy than to show him something he loves, then pull him in unawares?

Whatever those two things were, I'm sure the Muppet-forms were not their natural shape. I'm sure the fangs and talons were part of it, though.

If they're still out there, I hope they haven't had much time to practice those forms. If they could get them just right ...

I still wonder what would have happened -- dream or not -- if I had put my then-small hands up to the screen there in my grandparents' bedroom.

Perhaps nothing.

And then again, perhaps it's better not to know.

Next time, I'll post some real ghost stories. But the TV thread made remember this.

In case you're wondering, I don't watch much television anymore. It all seems so ... diabolical. ;)
Another user submitted story for you! Also, new photos and a new sound.


I recently moved from a house that my outside cat named "Cat" did not like. He was very skittish about going in there. I once thought if he had time he would get used to it. So I left him in the house with food and water and went away for an hour or so.

When I came home he didn't run up to me. I looked under the furniture but couldn't find him. I finally looked in a bathroom and found him shaking in the bath tub with it's nose down at the drain hole. I wondered if it sensed something in the house.

My new place is on the other side of the woods from my old house and I think Cat found my new place by my five sets of wind chimes that are always ringing. I could not move him in the car because in his terror of the car he would have clawed me to pieces.

I was anxious to get Cat into my new place to see how he acted in there. The first time he came to eat was during the day. He came in and sniffed around and seemed to like the place. He ate his food and then disappeared for his usual two or three days. I guess he goes out hunting for girl cats!

When he came back was the first night after a bad ice storm. Power was out in most residential areas for days. It was pitch black dark as there were no street lights. Everything was coated with ice. Broken branches and trees were everywhere and it was slightly foggy. It was a creepy scene. I got in from work at night and went about looking for candles. Lights were on when I left for work so I didn't prepare for darkness or cold.

As I was hunting around Cat ran up to the back door for food, which startled me because I was creeped anyway. Always being glad to see him, I opened the door to let him in. This time he didn't want to come in. I use a manual can opener and when he heard that he came in anyway because he knows that menas food.

After putting the bowl on the floor Cat starts chowing down. I talk to Cat like a person and explained to him I had to go get a sleeping bag from the basement since I would need it to stay warm in bed without heat.

I go down and get the sleeping bag. It was unrolled, so since I was ready to get out of the basement I just draped the sleeping bag over my shoulder (kinda like Linus) and started up the stairs. I was carrying a candle and was holding it out in front of me so I could see. As I was coming towards the top few stairs Cat looked at me and jumped straight up in the air. He hit the ground running and ran into the back sun room where the plexiglass back door is. He then jumps about three feet into the air and into the door. He fell to the ground, ran around in circles and jumped into the door again. It scared me so bad I almost wet myself! I ran to let him out so he wouldn't hurt himself jumping into the door.

It took me a few minutes to compose myself. I was sweating, my heart was pounding furiously, and I was shaking. Finally with a clearer head I figured that Cat really didn't understand what I was saying about the basement and was too busy eating to see me go down the stairs. I must have looked like Death himself dragging that sleeping bag and the candle light casting flickering shadows across my face.

Now, after thinking some more, what scares me is that he might have something walking behind me that humans can't see!

Good Night and Sleep Tight!

---Update On The Scared Cat---

It was days before Cat came back after the ice storm. It was daytime again and he didn't hesitate much about coming in. He ate, I talked to him some (I'm the Cat Whisperer) and he wanted out so I let him out.

He came back at night and he was once again hesitant about coming in. So I did the can opener trick again and here he comes. Cat could eat a T-Bone steak and ten minutes later he's acting like he's starving. That silly Cat.

This time he only eats a few bites, which is unusual. But, then again, I figured maybe he was still full from earlier.

He went into the sun room by the back door and started growling. I had never in three years heard him growl, not even in the other house he didn't like. I tried to calm him but he kept moving about and growling. I knew he didn't want to be there so I let him out.

All this time I'm thinking about the basement ordeal trying to rationalize what's going on and trying to jutify it not being a paranormal event. I finally gave up and went about doing other things.

The next morning I go out to my small back deck to look across the woods, get fresh air, and watch the birds and squirrels. I turn to look the other way and looked down to see if the cat water dish needed more water. I got a chill from head to toe. There weres chunks of Cat's hair everywhere. It was on the deck and going down the first few stairs that go down to my back yard. I picked it up a clump for a closer look, thinking maybe it just looked like Cat's hair. But it definitely was.

The weird thing is that there wasn't a drop of blood! I don't know what to make of it. Surely a dog attack would've left blood. And Cat would have jumped off the deck to get away. There are two flights of stairs from the ground and the cat could not have gotten caught off gaurd with that set up. And I had been home the whole time and heard no ruckus. It's a small place and I would have heard. Cat has not come back and it's been a while. I'm worried. Even when out courting he gets hungry and comes home after two or three days.

I've thought that maybe a large owl from the woods flew down and grabbed him. Or maybe it was *something else* - I don't know.

Sweet Dreams
Here's another question and answer. If you've got a question you want answered send it to me at me@kiddlets.com or give me a jingle on AIM at RheaRhyolin. If you've already given me questions and I haven't answered them yet, don't worry, I'll get to them before the night is done.

Q: What does a ghost look like?

A: Spirits, Ghosts, Entities, they've all got different levels of manifestation.

The first manifestation is an orb, an orb is a round or oval shaped ball of energy. Spirits get this energy by borrowing it from people and objects that conduct energy, like power lines. Orbs can vary in shape and color (usally yellow, white or blue) and are generally thicker and more realistic then dust or water spots on a photograph.

The second manifestation is refered to as plasma light. Plasma lights are more defined and larger orbs. Plasma lights are generally blue or red. Neither plasma lights or orbs are generally seen by the naked eye, although sometimes can be seen during a bright flash of light, like from a camera.

The third manifestation is a transparent or partial manifestation of the actual person. Usally all you see when it is this is a head, face, or other parts of the body. This varies but is usally not seen by the naked eye.

The fourth manifestation is a complete manifestation. This manifestation is where you get more of the spirit, such as the head and the torso, but not the legs. These types of manifestations can be seen quite often by the naked eye.

The fifth manifestation is called the solid manifestation. This is when the spirit completely manifests and appears to be as solid as an actual person. Sometimes when you hear stories about people being dragged from cars by people who later vanish or someone who walked past you out of nowhere in an empty building are examples of a solid manifestation.
Another user submitted story for you. Up next, questions answered!


Dachau was one of the most awful concentration camps in Germany during WW II. They gassed and cooked around 150,000 men, women, and children. They used the ovens to cook the corpses due to the volume of deaths:

The ashes took up less room than a whole corpse. A number of grusome medical experiments were done on living humans. Many did not live through them. Finally, the Americans liberated the people imprisoned there. A lot of those didn't live.

My friend was stationed in Dachau, Germany around 1969-1970. By that time it was used as a prison for U.S. Army soldiers who had broken the miltary law in some way or another. Also housed within the compound was the museum, administration building, mess hall, and trustees' housing. Outside the compound was the stockade and housing for the N.C.O.s.

In spite of what went on there, my friend, nor any of the service men stationed there, were ever bothered or disturbed by anything out of the ordinary.

At the entrance gate of the compound was a guard shack attached to the security wall of the compound. This was used for checking in prisoners, supplies and so on.

Night shift duty there in the shack was a rotated duty amongst the service men. My friend's partner had the night duty one night. He was a very solid military man and had no belief in anything outside of the obvious. He was there doing his duty like any one else.

On that night the unit commander recieved an phone call from town. It was the man who was on night duty in the guard shack. He explained that he was never coming back to his duty at Dachau, no matter what, court martial included.

He had glanced out across what was once the common area for the concentration camp prisoners. There, in the night's rolling fog, was thousands of ghostly figures, milling about in the yard as they may have been doing forty six years or so in the past:
Another ghost story for your reading pleasure. Also, new photographs some of the inside of the church at night with some orbs, and a new sound. Suggestions on what this one sounds like?


The Brown Lady of Raynham Hall

Norfolk's best-known ghost is the Brown Lady of Raynham Hall, so called because she is always seen on the staircase and in the corridors of Raynham Hall wearing a brown brocade dress. The Brown Lady is Dorothy Walpole. She was the daughter of Robert Walpole, an MP for Houghton, in Norfolk, and sister of the more-famous Sir Robert Walpole, the 18th century Prime Minister. There have been many eyewitness accounts of this haunting as well as it being one of the most reliably photographed ghosts in history.

The 1936 photograph of the Brown Lady in the "Country Life" magazine.. Dorothy fell in love with the Second Viscount Townshend but her father, who was Lord Townshend's guardian, refused his consent to their marriage. Lord Townshend eventually married the daughter of Baron Pelham of Laughton, but became a widower in 1711. Shortly afterwards he finally married the love of his life, Dorothy Walpole.

However, in the meantime, Dorothy Walpole had become the mistress of Lord Wharton, who had to leave the country after building up a pile of debts. It was after his marriage to Dorothy Walpole that Lord Townshend learned of his wife's previous conduct with Lord Wharton and ordered that she be kept locked in her apartments at Raynham Hall.
She died at the age of 40, on 29th March, 1726, officially of smallpox but there were those who said that she had died of a broken heart, or even a broken neck after either falling, or being pushed down the Grand Staircase. It is believed that she returns to Raynham Hall in search of her children, from whom she had been parted by her husband, after he had learned about her affair with Lord Wharton.

In 1836, the author Captain Marryat was staying at Raynham Hall and asked his host, Lord Townshend, if he could sleep in the room from which the Brown Lady was said to appear. As he was about to retire to bed for the night, two young men, relations of Lord Townshend, called into his room and said that they wished to discuss a gun that they intended using the whilst out on a shooting party. Captain Marryat accompanied them both to their room.
A few minutes later, whilst all three were returning along the corridor to Captain Marryat's room, joking that the gun would protect them from the Brown Lady, they saw a female figure advancing towards them, carrying a lamp. As she drew nearer, Captain Marryat realised that he had seen the woman before, in a portrait that hung in his room.
All three realised that the figure that was passing them was the ghostly Brown Lady and Captain Marryat pulled the trigger of the gun. The bullet went straight through the figure, which disappeared just after the shot was fired, and was later found in a door behind where she had been.

In 1849, Major Loftus was spending a few days at Raynham Hall and was having a game of chess one evening with a friend called Hawkins. After finishing the final game they decided to retire to bed and proceeded upstairs. As they were wishing each other goodnight, Hawkins pointed to the figure of a woman standing by one of the doors in the corridor. As they stood staring at her, the figure slowly vanished. The following night the Major saw the apparition again and he was startled to see that her eye-sockets were empty.

In November, 1926, Lady Townshend was staying for the weekend at Raynham Hall when, with her son and a friend, she saw the Brown Lady on the staircase. None of them had heard of the Brown Lady prior to this meeting but all swore that the woman they had met was the same one that was portrayed in the portrait of Dorothy Walpole.
George IV visited Raynham Hall when he was Prince Regent, and the Brown Lady is said to have frightened him out of his wits. He woke up in the middle of the night to see the ghostly figure standing at the foot of his bed. He promptly left, saying "I will not spend another hour in this accursed house, for tonight I have seen that which I hope to God I never see again".

On 19th September, 1936, the world-famous picture of the Brown Lady was taken by Captain Provand, whilst he was on a assignment for the magazine "Country Life". He had taken one photograph of the old staircase when his assistant, Indre Shira, called out that he could see a form on the stairs and asked Captain Provand to take another shot. Although the figure did not appear in the viewfinder, it appeared on the photographic plate, and after the negative had been examined by experts it was confirmed that it had not been touched up or faked in any way. The picture was subsequently published in "Country Life" on 6th December, 1936.

The Duke of Monmouth, two ghostly children and a ghost of a cocker spaniel are also reported to haunt Raynham Hall.
This time we've got a user submitted story. This one comes from Prana at Pranagraphy.


When I was six we moved from Florida to Ohio and lived in what at the time I thought was a big house. There was an extensive basement that not even the adults would go into and a second story which was mostly empty. In one room upstairs there were alcoves on each side of the room because the roof slanted so the walls slanted and created a sort of triangular attic space on either side of the house. We were forbidden to go into the 'attic' because if you fell through the rafter in the 'attic' you would literally fall into the walls and to get out someone would have to lower a rope about twelve feet or tear open the wall on the outside of the house. Needless to say, the idea of being trapped in the walls scared us silly.

It was at this house that I saw my first ghost and had my first taste of the paranormal. For Christmas I had been given a collection of possible porcelain and foam dolls as well as a teddy bear and a large blue rag doll. The teddy bear I named George after my 'imaginary' friend and the doll I gave no name. At night I would surround myself with stuffed animals as I thought they would protect me in my sleep. When I awoke in the morning not only were all my toys gone, all the dolls were in different positions and the blue rag doll was no where to be found. Only George remained in bed with me. I was a little scared but mostly figured that my mom had come in and cleaned while I slept. I looked for the blue rag doll but could not find her so I went out to play. When I returned that night for bed the blue rag doll was on my bed sitting up with her arms and legs folded neatly. Again I assumed my mother had cleaned. I went to bed with my toys around me and George at my side but I put the blue rag doll in the closet under a pile of closed so that she could not move. I also turned all my dolls so they faced the wall and could not watch me while I slept. In the morning I awoke to find all my toys again on the floor, and George at my side. But all my dolls were now facing me. I opened the closet and there sat the rag doll arms and legs folded neatly. I ran to ask my mom if she had been cleaning my room and she swore she hadn't touched it in days. Again that night I followed the same procedure and again I awoke to the dolls facing me, my stuffed animals strewn across the floor and the blue rag doll sitting neatly in the closet. At this point I was very very frightened. I took the blue doll out back and put her in the trash and she was taken to the dump, never to pester me again. Many things happened in the house after that which leads me to believe it was not the doll that was the problem, but the house.


Congrats to our 7 PM winner of another pair of vanilla pillar candles Butterfly!

Next drawing will be at 10 PM PST. Don't forget to enter to win some of the other prizes.
New sound, what do you think this one sounds like? Some new photos for you lovely people as well.

Up next, a good old fashoned ghost story and some viewer submitted stuff! Also, don't forget, there is a drawing at 7 so submit your info and keep those questions coming, I'll be answering the ones I haven't gotten to yet within the next hour or so.

Fred is such a jerk.
I'm feeling the love...oh yes, I'm feeling it. I swear, no more pictures for you people.
SaetanSadiablo: You look stoned.
Frycow: You look unhappy
Frycow: Cheer up!
Frycow: It's still light outside where you are
Rhea Rhyolin: I do not I look fine
Rhea Rhyolin: lol
kaliprana: your hair looks nice today, but why do you look pissed?
Rhea Rhyolin: I'm hot, and tired, I look drugged
Rhea Rhyolin: I do not! LMAO!
Rhea Rhyolin: I was trying to take my own picture, it made me use my one lone brain cell
I'm tired! I also need to stop trying to take my own pictures, it makes my head look huge in comparisan to the rest of the room.

Maybe I just have a huge head.
Hey boys and girls, got a new featured sound for you. This one always sounded to me like 'hey girlfriend' but I'm very sure that's not what it is. Anyone want to take a stab at what it might be?

Also, four new pictures have been posted. Now we're getting to the fun stuff. This is starting my collection of about 30 night shots taken last night at the graveyard. Check out those photos, most of them will have orbs and maybe some other things in them. Orbs and 'others' have been circled in red. Notice how some aren't circled but look sort of like orbs? It's not, it's dust! Whee! Lots of dust but there are some orbs there too. Go look, already.

Want to know how to tell the difference between dust and orbs? True orbs are more 3D then dust, they'll be rounder and brighter as well.

As always, past photos and sounds can be found on the Graveyard Sounds and Graveyard Photos page.

Don't forget, next drawing is at 7 PST!
By the way, if you're not watching Fred's cam you should. It's amazingly riviting entertainment, right now he's folding laundry.
Welp, since it's that time again, I've decided to go ahead and draw a name for the first prize of the evening.

The winner of the first prize of the evening, a lovely set of yummy smelling vanilla pillar candles is:

Frederick Pettine

Congrats! If you want the chance to win a prize in our next small drawing at 7, or one of the other prizes I'm giving away after the `Thon, then fill out the form located on this page or send your real name, postal address, and e-mail address to me@kiddlets.com
New picture and sound boys and girls!

Remember - the first drawing is at 5, so if you're going to enter you better.
Myself and my late lunch of a chicken sandwich and cottage cheese are here with another ghost story for you.

First drawing for the during-Thon prizes is coming up at 5! So don't forget to get those entries in!


Mrs. Marshall

From: harvestmom@aol.com (HarvestMom)
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
Subject: Lady of the house
Date: 27 Mar 1999 04:31:38 GMT

My mother began working for a wealthy DC family several years ago, they would come to Delaware to their beach house each summer and several times during the "off season." A year into her service with them, the lady developed liver cancer which quickly spread. She stayed at the Delaware house and requested that my mother be the one to take care of her through her last days. She was a sweet lady and Mom agreed although it broke her heart. Since I was still only 16 she couldn't be there 24 hours a day so she asked one of her sisters to come and help out. The family didn't really care for Virginia at all but tolerated her because of their love for my mother. The illness didn't take long to take the lady's life, she died in October, just a few months after learning the cancer had spread. I called Mom when I got home from school that day, as I did every day to let ehr know that yes I was ok. She told me the Mrs. had passed away in the middle of the night, she was gone by the time Mom got there that morning and she asked if I would please come down and help her clean up a little because the family was already on their way back to DC and she just didn't feel comfortable being there with just her sister. She said there had been tension between the family and Virginia before they left but no one had mentioned why. I had a friend drive me down and helped Mom do the "end of season" cleaning because the family would not be returning until the spring. As we were leaving, Mom said she wanted to make sure all the doors were locked so she was going to check the downstairs doors at each end. I stood by the main entrance at the foot of the stairs (in the foyer) waiting. Virginia came down the stairs and placed some of her belongings on the table that sat there and then she placed a mug there that I knew did not belong to her but she intended to take it with her. I watched as the mug appeared to be picked up and thrown down to the floor. It was no where near the edge of the table and I wasn't close enough to the table to have caused that to happen. In my heart I believe Mrs. Marshall was having her "final say" to Virginia, letting her know that she couldn't get away with taking anything from the house. Mom came out to see what had happened and I told her, she said that Virginia should never have tried to take anything, no matter how small and she deserved it. I agree 100% yes these were weathly people whom you'd think to be snobs but the truth is that they'd have given you the shirt off their backs if you'd asked

Mom continued to work for them for years after, caring for the man each time he came down and making sure things were in order when his adult children came to visit. Each day she would say she felt the Mrs. nearby and it made me a little uneasy going there to help out on weekends that there would be a full house. I never felt her until the end of the summer when I was cleaning the pool furniture for storage. I felt as though I were being watched and I looked all around and noticed her standing in the window of her dressing room, just as she had the first season we were there. (After that first time she said it impressed her how much time I put into making sure the pool furniture was perfectly white before I got it ready for storage.) She was smiling when I saw her there, and she nodded to me, I smiled and waved to her thinking to myself that if anyone looked and didn't see her there they'd surely think I'd flipped waving at an empty window but I didn't really care because I hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye to Mrs. Marshall and it was as if she knew that this would be my last season there and she didn't want to miss her chance to say goodbye to me. It was really neat.
90 %

There's a 90 % chance that I'll survive the 'thon.
Will you survive the Blogathon?

What do you guys think? Think I'll make it?
Another fun ghost story for you.


North Royalton

Date: Sat, 22 Nov 1997 21:20:07 -0800 (PST)
To: guestbook@ghosts.org
yourname MZZZZ B
email MZZZZ B@aol.com

I lived in a home in North Royalton, (surburb of Cleveland), Ohio for twelve years. All twelve years that my husband and two children lived there, we were not alone! For many years I was the only one in the family who could see our visitor-(I think we were the visitors!), but we all experienced paranormal phemomenina.

>From what I could piece together from neighbors and other sources, the
home was built by a police officer who lived there with his mother and father. This police officer had been assigned to the famous Sam Sheppard case, and was one of the detectives who investagated the case. This, however, has nothing to do with the ghost who was cooccupying the premisess. The home was built in 1946. The ghost must have been the owner of a home which was there before the present home was built, because he was dressed in the clothing of the mid 1800's.

My first indication that we were not alone came one evening about six months after we moved in. My oldest daughter was about a year and a half old at the time, (my son had not been born yet). We were in the basement doing laundry, when a heard a loud "thump" on the floor above me. My husband was working at his night-time job, so this really unnerved me. I was certain someone had knocked over one of my ceramic pots from one of the end tables in the livingroom. I was so frightened that I backed by daughter and I, as silently as I could, up the basements stairs and out the back door. We ran to a neighbors home and I called my husband to tell him that someone had broken into the house. While he was on the way home, a few neighbors decided to investigate. Two men from the neighborhood went into the house and searched it. When my husband came home fifteen minutes later he too joined the search. The only thing they found was my heavy hand made ceramic pot laying on its s! ! ide on the floor of the living room. This pot was always kept on the end table and was positioned in the middle of the table. It weighed at least six pounds, (more like ten pounds), and could not have vibrated off the table and on to the floor by a passing truck from the near-by freeway and the neighbors suggested. Besides, it near ended up on the floor again in the next twelve years I lived there!

After this incident, strange things began happening on a regular basis. For one thing every night, and even during the day, we would hear cars coming up our 350 foot gravel driveway, and run to the window to see who it was only to find nothing there! We were not the only ones who experienced this phemomenia. Anyone in the house would hear cars come down the driveway and run to the window in the kitchen to see who was arriving. During the twelve years we lived in the home, we tried to put it on the market twice. Both times we had Real Estate agents do open houses at the property. After the first open house each agent had, they told us they would never have another because they kept hearing cars come up the drive and no one would be there. There was also a time when I was speaking on the phone in the kitchen with my back facing the driveway and was sure I heard a car pull up the drive behind me--no one was there. There was another time when I was cleaning our family room! ! addition, which was between the main house and the garage, and heard my husband's car with his defective muffler come up the drive and in to garage next to where I was cleaning. I waited for him to come in the house, and finally went into the garage to see what was keeping him--no car and no husband. The garage was empty.

I would constantly see the young man in the black top coat and stove pipe hat out of the corner of my eye. On occassion I would also see a woman, but her sightings were rare.

As I said, many personal items in our home disappeared on a regular basis--at least one or two a month. Some times our ghost would return these items, and some times we never saw them again. The first time disappearance happened with decorater hand towels from the half bath on the second floor.

The home was a bungalow, so the second floor had one large bedroom, the attic, and a half bath. We were using this bedroom as the master bedroom at the time. The children's bedrooms were down stairs, and they never had a opporturnity to venture upstairs. One morning when I entered the bathroom I noticed that one of the decorator towels I had hanging on specially mounted towel rings was gone. Because I used these towels for decoration only, they were never used. I searched the entire house for the missing towel, and never did find it.

Another mysterious disappearance happened on the second floor as well--this time in the attic. My husband's grandfather had given him an antique .22 rifle before he died. Because I hated guns, I asked that my husband keep the rifle in the attic and that he never buy amunition for it. He promised to oblige, and placed the gun between two studs in the attic directly under the light swicth to the left of the attic door. One day, after we had guests staying in the second floor bedroom, I noticed the rifle was no longer where it was always kept. My first thought was that our guests perloined our rifle. I was very upset by this prospect, because the guests were relatives. To make sure I wasn't falsely accusing my cousin with taking the rifle, I removed everything we had stored in the attic in search of the missing weapon The rifle was not in the attic! Two weeks later I had to return to the attic and when I switched on the light, there was the gun, right where it had always been--between the studs under the light switch. My son had not been born yet at this time, and my daughter was only two years old and couldn't maneuver the attic door, so I was sure she had no part in the mystery. My husband also claimed ignorance. After that occurance, things came and went on a regular basis-- some came back and some never did.

Now though all this my husband kept telling me that there had to be a reasonable explaination for everything that had been happening in the home, but he could never come up with that explaination! The house being haunted was not an option for him--he didn't believe in anything he couldn't see!

Until one evening when I was at a class at the local college. He was in the bathroom taking a bath. Both children were in bed sleeping and he was relaxing in the tub. Suddenly he heard our two small dogs start barking. He assumed they were barking because I had come home from my class, (although they had never done that before!) After a few minutes, the dogs both became quiet at the same time. He waited to hear me come into the house, but minutes passed and he did not hear the back door open. What he did hear, however, was what he thought was someone in the living room crumpling up newspaper and dropping it to the floor. He was sure it was me doing this in an effort scare him. He called out my name several times, but only heard more crumpling of newspaper as a reply. After about five minutes he decided to get out of the tub to investigate, fully expecting to see the living room filled with balled up newspaper. What he saw, however, was an empty room, with our dogs under the couch looking as though they've been drugged. He never again told me I was crazy when I told him the house was haunted!

As I said, I saw the main ghost out of the corner of my all the time. Every time I would decend the stairs from my bedroom I would see someone peeking over the half wall above the stairway. When I would jerk my head around to see the area head-on, no one would be there. I would also see him at times while I was walking through the home.--again I would jerk my head in the direction of the spector, and no one would be there. It wasn't until I had sold the home and was a week from leaving it when the ghost appeared to me head on. I was alone in the home cleaning it. While in my son's room I turned toward the hallway and saw the ghost slowly pass by the door.

Naturally I was very upset, because as I said, I was alone in the house. I took a few deep breaths and waited to see if it would pass by the doorway again. When I saw nor heard nothing after a few minutes, I shrugged my shoulders, and continued with my cleaning. About ten minutes later I was in the livingroom cleaning in front of a huge picture window which overlooked the driveway and pine trees in front of the house. As I was kneeling in front of the plant stand, dusting it, I noticed that the atmosphere was changing around me. It felt like it did when taking off in a airplane at first. This was enough for me to stop what I was doing and pay attention to what was about to happen next. As I waited, I realized that the air had become very thick, as if it were water. I felt as though if I were to move my hand and arm in a swimming like jester, I would be able to feel the air move around me as if I were in a pool. As I thought this, I felt something move though the house, starting at the back door and continuing on to the living room and stopping right behind me were I was kneeling. It was a frightening experience to say the least! Every hair on the back of my neck stood straight out, as if I were in a cartoon! Although I was extremely fightened, I did not feel theatened by this invisable apparation. I said in a very calm voice, "I know you don't want me to leave, but I have to go. You may come with us if you want, but I do have to leave here." With that the atmosphere of the house returned to normal, and I felt the ghost leave the area. I never saw nor heard from the ghost again. I think it was his way of saying good bye.

When I saw the entity pass by my son's doorway, it was moving slowly enough to get a good impression of what he looked like. He was about 5'6" tall. He seemed to be about 30 years old, wearing a full beard and closely cut hair. He was wearing a long black overcoat, and a tall, black hat. I never felt theatened, (except for that first encounter with the cermic pot!), but rather that the ghost pertected us thoughout the years we dwelled there.

My husband worked a second job for most of the years we lived in the home, so my two oldest childern and I were in the home alone most of the time.

Just about every home in the neighborhood had been broken into at one time or another during the twelve years we lived in the home, but although our home was 350 feet back from the street and surrounded by trees, our home was never molested by burglers.

Many other incidents occurred in the home during our tweleve year stay. Some are very interesting.
I had a post all nice and written, and it goes 'Ma'am would you like to save me ma'am, before you flip over to update your template? No need to hit post ma'am, I can save it.' and I, the disgusting trustworthy fool I am beamed a little smile and happily clicked yes.

Lies, all they ever spout to me is lies.

New pictures and sounds up boys and girls! For those of you playing the sound game, here is another one that wasn't identifiable. What do you think it is?

I'm still accepting your photos, sounds, questions and personal stories so slide them on under the door. Hurry it up though would ya? I've got squat for the next post.

For those of you who want to enter the prize drawings and don't have a pop3 E-mail you can still enter. (Would I deny you the oppurtunity to own such crap? Of course I wouldn't!) Simply send your full name, postal address and e-mail address to me@kiddlets.com with the subject 'Prize drawing'. Make sure you get those in before tomorrow at 6 AM PST!

I'll also be giving away some fun little prizes during the blogathon. What are they? Not going to tell you, so you'll just have to wait. (Anything to stretch my posts out!) Those drawings use the same form (or e-mail) if you'd like to enter.

Third in a series of four stories from Mt. Holyoke.


My very lazy sister, Women of Rugby Players, related to me the following stories about the Mandels Dorm. For those of you who do not know the Mandels, it is a dorm on the campus located on the top of Mandel Hill. It's nestle amoung the treetops and looks quite forbiding.

The story has two variations. During a october the seniors of years gone by were hazing the freshman. Part of the the hazing process was to take the freshman up to the attic of the dorm and initiate them in any particularly degrading way the seniors could think of. One particular freshman was rather homesick and was having a hard time adjusting to the school. She did not really get into the hazing experience which angered the Hazers. They locked her in the attic and apparently forgot about her until milk and cooking time. When they went up to get her. One version of the story goes that they found her hung. The hazing had driven her to madness and suicide, not at all the intention of the Hazers. The attic was locked and is not accessable to the students.

The second version of the story tells that the Hazers left the freshman in the attic. As it got dark, it got scarry and she became upset and distraught. She yelled and screamed for quite a while but no one heard her because everyone was downstairs eating dinner. As she was trying to find her her way out, she fell down the stair in the dark to her demise.

These stories are given as explanations of why the doornob to the attic occasionally rattles as if someone is desperately trying to open it from the other side. The door is often found open, even though no one has the key. It also accounts for a tumbling sound that can be heard from the rooms that are closest to the attic stairs.

* a word about hazing.....it is no longer allowed at MHC. This story is supposed to have happened a long long time ago.
Second in a series of four stories at Mt. Holyoke.


Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
From: lawrence.pilon@the-spa.com
Date: Thu, 29 Dec 94 02:56:23

This is a story told to me by my lazy sister who attended Mt. Holyoke and enjoyed many fun times spooking herself and her friends. The first story involves a darling student who live in the Pearsons dorm on the second floor in a large room over the dining room. It seems that one night in the 60's the student, we'll call her "Moon Flower" (MF), was experimenting with LSD. Well, the story goes that she took a little too much. She freaked and there were no brown acid counselors available. The story goes that she went into the closet and started to borrow into the wall with her nail. Hands bloodied, she crawled into the hole.

The next day her friends missed her at breakfast and began to worry about her. They knocked at her door, but heard nothing. They knew she had not left her room so they asked the resident assistant to open the door to check on her. When they looked into room, they noticed it was in disaray, but didn't see anything. They entered the room and began looking around and finally found her in the closet. She was curled up in a fetal position in the hole she had created. From the expression on her face she died at alone, frightened and tortured by the demons her mind had created. MF came from a good family and her death was most shocking to her family. To avoid scandal, the school refused to acknowledge that the incident had happened. They repaired the damage to the room and mysteriously did not place any more students in that particular room. They turned it into a storage room. The resident assistant is the only one to have the key. The room remains locked at all times yet strangely, the room appear open from time to time. Students, not really knowing the history of the building have reported hearing footsteps, scratching sounds and very low weaping comming from this room while eating in the dining room below.

The chandalier also moves a bit when you hear the footsteps, and yet when knowing students have investigated incident and listen for sounds through the door, they hear nothing.