Tomorrow marks week 3 of my new job. I get to finally meet the CEO of the company, interview someone that's a potential new hire and prep for representing the company at a health fair on Wednesday. All very exciting, but I'm still left with SO many questions and concerns. To get my mind off all of that, I decided a blog post is in order.
For those of you not glued to the TV right now watching the 49ers game, this is for you.
It’s no longer Halloween, or even close to it, yet I keep getting requests for more haunting stories. I guess people just don’t like reading about me venting. I don’t have any more personal ghost stories, so I’m going to write about sightings that happened to my friends!
If you have a haunting you want me to write about, let me know. Maybe call me with the story and I’ll blog about it?
So here goes friend ghost account #1:
This is a story that hits somewhat close to home, emotionally and location wise, therefore names as well as minor changes will be made. This is to protect the family involved and will not affect the story-at all.
As I have mentioned in past posts, the town I grew up in, in Connecticut, is a historic town with houses dating back to the first settlers. One such house belonged to a friend from pre-school, let’s call her Susan. Susan’s mom, Mrs. Smith, told me and my mom this story once and it has stuck with me for life.
The Smith’s lived in a large, historic home, with a plaque on the outside stating the date the house built and naming it a historic landmark, therefore alterations could never be made to the home. The Smith’s assumed the house had a great deal of history, but were unsure of previous tenants and/or events in the home. Shortly after moving in, Mrs. Smith gave birth to her first child, Sally. One day, Mrs. Smith was in the kitchen while Sally slept in her crib upstairs. Sally began to cry, which Mrs. Smith heard over the baby monitor. As any new mother would do, she dropped everything and ran upstairs to see what woke young Sally. As she neared the room, the crying stopped.When she walked into the nursery, a woman dressed as though she had just time traveled from 1806 stood over the crib looking fondly down on Sally. Mrs. Smith stopped in her tracks, unsure what to do and questioning her eyesight The woman glanced at her then turned and disappeared into the wall. Mrs. Smith checked on Sally and she seems happy and safe, so she wrote it off as lack of sleep playing tricks on her mind.
A couple of weeks later she once again found herself in a similar situation, she was downstairs when she heard Sally crying through the baby monitor. This time, when she rushed upstairs, she found the woman cradling the baby, who had since stopped crying. Mrs. Smith was terrified to find the same woman with her hands in the crib comforting Sally. Protection mode set in and Mrs. Smith yelled at the woman to leave. The woman looked up and as her eyes met Mrs. Smith's a feeling of hatred washed over the living woman. She stared with hatred, then again turned and walked into the wall and disappeared.
Mrs. Smith was rattled. She decided to research the house’s history and previous tenants; she was particularly interested in learning about anyone who may have died in her home. After tirelessly searching through records at the local library she found a clipping dating back to the early 1800’s. It was a small blurb about a young woman who lived in the home and died during childbirth. Nothing too newsworthy, especially seeing as deaths during childbirth were common at that time. Convinced this was her ghost, Mrs. Smith returned home and prepared for an encounter every time Sally cried, but the haunt did not return to Sally's bedside.
Now fast forward a couple of years, Mrs. Smith has given birth to her second daughter, Mary. Mrs. Smith had forgotten about the ghostly woman as she ran upstairs to tend her crying baby, but just as before, the crying stopped and the woman was calming the baby; and as before she looked at Mrs. Smith with hatred in her eyes. She appeared more frequently with Mary’s birth, maybe half a dozen times; always appearing to comfort the baby when she needed it the most. She kept to gently "touching" the baby's cheeks or standing and staring down. Just as before, she stopped showing up with time. Mrs. Smith did not like her being there, but felt that as long as the ghost's hatred was directed toward her, her children had a guardian angel watching over them at home.
A couple of years later Mrs. Smith gave birth to her third and final child, Susan. This time around, the ghost made sure her presence was known. She paced the nursery floor as Susan slept and walked the halls at night. Mrs. Smith described dark feelings directed towards her, accompanied by looks filled with rage and pure hatred. She described a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach, like the ghost would stop at nothing to get rid of her. She remained longer than she had with either of the other children. As Susan began to talk, she even mentioned the lady in black, as if it was a perfectly natural sight.
Eventually, she stopped coming around, but the uneasy feeling accompanied Mrs. Smith every time she was alone in her home; so she tried to limit her time at home. As time went on, she would comment on the feeling of gloom following her from her home to work. She couldn't explain it, but felt like the ghost was with her at all times, angry at her for some odd reason.
If it was the ghost from the article, perhaps she thought Susan was her baby; or felt she was robbed of motherhood. Whatever her reasoning, it did not justify her hatred of Mrs. Smith.
As Susan went off to college, Mrs. Smith hoped the spirit would finally be at peace. She took a business trip with a colleague, the first time she'd been away from home in years. On her last night away, as the ladies drove to the airport to come home, a drunk driver hit them and Mrs. Smith died on the spot.
Maybe it was just a dark coincidence, but she always spoke of this dark cloud following her wherever she went. Many who knew her and had heard her story believe the ghost wouldn't let her come home.
She will always be missed.
