Archive for October, 2007



29
Oct

The Picture

 When I was in high school in the mid 1970’s my class decided to collect some of the local ghost stories. This wasn’t hard because much of our coastal South Carolina town was built in the early 1700’s and ghost stories were abundant. For the project, my partners and I decided to interview our history teacher, Mr. Hall, who lived in an old rice plantation house built in the early 1800’s that was reputed to be haunted. We went out to the house one Saturday afternoon to interview him.  After we had gathered the information on the household ghost (which most of us knew anyway), he and his daughter’s fiancée, Mr. Jones, decided to tell us another story. That story gave us the creepy-crawlies. From the perspective of adulthood, I think that perhaps the story was concocted for our benefit - both of those gentlemen would have delighted in this. I have changed the names, but the rest of the story is as it was told to us in about 1974.

The other two students and I were sitting in the library and Mr. Hall, the owner of the house, pointed to a picture on the wall. It was a very dark painting. You could see that there was a person in it, and a woodstove with a fire, but that was about it. All the details were lost in the darkness. He said that he and Mr. Jones had had an interesting experience with that picture.

Mr. Hall and the younger man, Mr. Jones, who would later become his son-in-law, were sitting in the library of the Halls’ historic home one evening after dinner. The room was a pleasant room, filled to the brim with books. There were comfortable chairs, a fireplace, and on the wall was a rather dark painting. The picture was dark enough that it was hard to make out anything in the picture; it seemed to be a man sitting by a wood stove, but that was all you could really see.

As the evening passed, Mr. Jones happened to look up at the painting. It seemed to be lighter and easier to see the subject than it usually was. He didn’t think much of it and went back to what he was doing. When he looked up again in a little bit, the painting was clearly brighter and the details were easier to see. He pointed this out to Mr. Hall, who was of course quite surprised. As the evening wore on, the painting changed still more. The grate in the woodstove in the painting began to glow as if there were truly a fire in it. A lit cigarette in the hand of the man in the picture began to glow, too. The subject’s face took on a strange brightness - the men could see his features as they had never been able to before, and things in the background of the picture were clear.

While they were telling us the story, we were all staring at it with wide eyes. Here we were in a house that was supposed to be haunted with two people we respected telling us that the picture we were looking at was haunted - or something. The only bit of atmosphere missing was a dark and stormy night.  I still remember how dark that picture was, and how eerie it looked even in broad daylight. The woodstove in the painting had only a dim orange glow to it and you really couldn’t see much in the picture at all.  

The grate of the stove in the picture glowed brighter and brighter, as did the cigarette in the man’s hand. Mr. Hall and Mr. Jones described the picture as becoming rather devilish-looking with the red glow from the stove in the picture. They could see all sorts of details they had never been able to see before, such a  clock in the background.

Finally, they grew too tired to stay up and watch the picture any longer, and went to bed. The next morning, they immediately went to see the picture only to find that it had returned to its original dark state.

We questioned the men at length, trying to come up with some rationale about why the picture would do such a thing. Was it the anniversary of the artist’s death? The subjects? Did it happen every year? They did not know of anything that would help explain the events - and we left with backward looks and goosebumps running down our spines.

Contributed by She Wolf - retelling (c) 2007

28
Oct

For your next trip….

As you plan your next vacation, you may wish to consult the Directory of Haunted Places which has listings for international as well as U.S. hauntings. If you live in or plan to visit the U.K., then you may find The Headless Horseman Online Guide to Ghosts of interest.

Wherever you go, safe travels……..bwahahahahahah………

28
Oct

How Sweet It Is

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I have so many wonderful Halloween Memories…

this is one of them

and it concerns:

Lizzie Borden

Today I read about a Lizzie Borden Halloween Prop that costs THOUSANDS of dollars.

Robot Lizzie swings an Ax up and down.

Sure, whatever.

When I was a kid this family had a Haunted House set up in their basement and the Dad used to dress up like Lizzie and chase people around with an ax and he’d be screaming ” Forty Wacks! Forty Wacks for you all!”

And the entire time he- well, she is doing that, we’d be screaming for Jesus and our Moms and diving under furniture and swinging our plastic pumpkins like around medieval war weapons  and trying to climb out the windows.

I wouldn’t trade that memory for anything-

not even for THOUSANDS of dollars.

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amm

28
Oct

Halloween Game

Here’s another fun way to avoid writing!!

Click the link for Halloween HangmanIts addicting….http://www.dedge.com/flash/hangman/hangman.swf?

28
Oct

Over the Hill with Grandpa

My Grandpa Roy told me this story when I was a kid.

Most of his adult life, my grandpa worked for the movie studios– MGM, RKO, Warner Brothers. At various times he worked for them as a horse wrangler, grip, and greensman. Sometimes he just did whatever needed doing on the set. One day, back in the 1930’s, he was asked to pick up a truck in Hollywood and deliver it over the hill to the WB facilities in the Valley.

Now Grandpa Roy had a grandfather named James who frequently visited him. On this particular day, Great-Grandpa James joined Grandpa Roy for the ride over the hill. Back in 1930’s there were no freeways as there are today, and travel to and from the Valley required negotiating narrow, twisting canyon roads. The route they took that day was over Cold Water Canyon Road.

As James sat in the passenger side of the truck, my grandpa Roy began the ascent up the road. James was quiet, as was his nature, but just before the truck reached the top of the grade, James turned to Grandpa Roy and said “You need to check the brakes before you start that downhill grade. You won’t make it if you don’t.”

Grandpa Roy had always followed his grandfather’s advice so he pulled over to the side of the road. He got out and slid under the truck for a look. Sure enough, there was a problem with the brakes, and had he proceeded down the grade more than likely they would have failed and he would have careened out of control.

I don’t remember what Grandpa Roy said about how he got the truck down the hill. I don’t remember because I got stuck on what Grandpa said next about Great-Grandpa James riding along with him.

You see, Great-Grandpa James was dead and had been for many, many years.

Lori Gloyd (c) 2006, 2007

27
Oct

Hadley Happenings, Pt. II

                          Hadley Happenings Pt. II

Now, lookin’ around I can see some faces that didn’t hear about the Witch and her poor dog.  I’m sure any of the others’ll be more than happy to tell you the tale later.  I’m not here to be repeating myself.

The Witch told us things were gonna get worse, we should have believed her, but we thought is was her grief talkin’.  Like they say, hindsight is always 20/20. 

Things hadn’t even quietened down from that dog, and more dogs started showin’ up dead, or not showin’ up at all.

The town went awful quiet after the dogs was silenced.  Dogs that should have been playin’ fetch, guarding their Master’s home, or catching bad guys were bein’ mourned every day.

After the dogs were mostly gone, except for some little puppies, the cats started disappearin’.  They lasted a little longer, but eventually all the cats that had sat in laps, chased a piece of yarn, and loved their person hade been buried under rosebushes, and mourned just like the dogs.

Yes, the Witch stayed, even though she knew how bad things were gonna get.  She knew she’d be needed, she was there to offer comfort, and make a pot of her tea for the ones left behind.  Yes, she was there until the bitter end.

I asked her once why she did it.  She looked at me with those sad, gentle eyes, and when she spoke her voice sounded so tired, “Because it is the right thing to do.”.  I still hear her sayin’ that in my nightmares.

After all the dogs and cats were gone people started disappearin’, or dyin’.  I remember the very first human victims of that madman.  Nothin’ but a pair of kids really, still in school.

It was horrible what happened to them, on the night of the prom too!  And here ‘Bubba’ was set on asking his sweetheart to marry him after the prom.  He’d gone so far as to buy a diamond ring, a real pretty one, too.

Bubba wasn’t the smartest kid by any road, but he worked hard n studied harder, and always had a smile for everyone.  He was joining the Marines, had it all set for after he graduated.

Bubba’s sweetheart wasn’t from around here, she came to town to live with her Aunt and Uncle after her parents were killed while they were workin’ with Doctors Without Borders.

Still raw from losing her parents, with an accent, and the faintest little scar from her hare-lip surgery that poor child had Bully-Bait written all over her in big, bloody red letters.

The sad thing was that she was always pretty-ish, and her scar made her even cuter, it pulled her mouth up in such a way that she looked like she was ready to laugh out loud.

On her first day of school here the girl, Priscilla-Anne, was so nervous she almost stuttered when she was sayin’ hello to a room fulla strangers.  There was an awful bully in her first class, Hank, and he lit into her right off, like a shark that smells blood.

Hank was well on his way to makin’ poor Priscilla-Anne cry when Bubba came back from the Nurse’s Office.

Bubba took one look at what was goin’ on ad he stood up for Priscilla.  From that day on, they were inseperable, even goin’ to church together, and their always held hands.  Nothin’ show-offy, or like they owned each other.  More like they were two parts of the same star or something.

By the time they were in HIgh School together Prissy and Bubba were destined to be Prom King and Queen, from their very first day as Freshmen.

Bubba could have been a great football player, except he were just too gentle.  He played baseball and his Home Run record still stands.  Yes!!  That Bubba!!

He played the trumpet so fine he could bring tears to your eyes when he played “The Star-Spangled Banner”, ot “Amazing Grace”.  He never could whistle worth a darn, but he made this buzzy trumpet-noise through his lips all day long.  You could always tell what he was trumpetin’.  Well, I don’t know what else to call it!!

On the night of the Prom poor Bubba was so nervous that he kept playin these odd little sounds, but when he looked at Prissy he’d start into some Classical piece.  His Math teacher asked him what it was, and this plain 18 year old kid says, “Romeo and Juliet Overture” by some fellow by the name of Tchaikovsky.

I heard that song a couple times after that, and I saw bubba and Prissy on the stage, wearin’ their King and Queen crowns of cardboard, gold filligree foil and some shiny crystals in bright colours, smilin’ under all them lights.  Seein’ that hurt so bad I had to stop listening to it.

Bubba wasn’t patient, and in a silly, love-struck gesture he got down on his knee on that stage and asked Prissy to marry him.  She shrieked like Miss America and hollered “Yes!!” before she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight-tight.  It was a wonder that the roof of the gym didn’t fall in in, everyone cheered and clapped that long and loud for them.

Well, just like the kids in one of them scary movies, Bubba and Prissy took Bubba’s Daddy’s car and went parkin’, down by Dead Tree River.  When they didn’t show up at midnight like they had promised their parents started worryin’, but they trusted their young ones. 

It’s true that back then, things were different than they are now; little kids could play outside ‘till sundown and nobody thought a thing of it.  Somebody’s Momma was sure to chase all the kids home when they hollered up their own.

Heck, back then kids went Trick or Treatin’ on their own, and nobody worried about where they were or who gave ‘em what candy.  Most of the Momma’s knew one another from the PTA, Boy or Girl Scouts, the Library Club, and such-like.  Half of the costumes were made by their Mommas to begin with.

I remember the one year, Missus Wheeler made her eldest boy into a Mummy by ripping up old, raggedy bed sheets an wrapping around and around her boy.  She did this while she was workin’ at the nursing home.  Her man weren’t any good and up and left her for a younger gal, so she was goin’ to school to be a nurse, raisin’ her kids on her own, and working 2 and three part-time jobs to support them.

Anyway, back to Bubba and Prissy, there they were, parked in that battered old Ford his Daddy drove to work, talkin’ about their dreams an’ plans.  They didn’t notice ‘till too late that the battery were goin’ dead.  When the lights shut down and the music stopped playin’ (Prissy said it was “You Light Up My Life”), they both sat there holdin’ hands and blinkin’.

There were some awful scary noises in the woods, animals huntin’ for their dinner, and animals bein’ dinner; Bubba didn’t think nothing of it, he’d been huntin’ with his Daddy for about ten years, and he knew them woods pretty well.  He reassured Prissy that they would be fine, and told her he was goin’ to go Apple Tree road, it weren’t but a half-mile away and every so often they could see the lights from passin’ cars.

Prissy begged him to take her along, or for Bubba to stay with her till morning came around.  He patted her hand and kissed her, but he went anyway, not wantin’ to have Prissy out all night.  As he walked towards the road she could hear him making that trumpety noise, she said it were “The Teddy Bears’ Picnic”.

Accourse it faded away and Prissy was there by herself, in the dark-dark of the woods, with them noises goin’ on around her and getting’ more scared by the minute.  Back then girls just didn’t go campin’ or huntin’ with their Daddies, no more than a boy would take Sewin’ or Home Ec. in school.

She started cryin’ a little bit and then she thought she heard Bubba comin back, because she heard his trumpetin’ far-off and soundin’ kind of funny.  It stopped and she was hopin’ that meant that Bubba had found someone to give the car a jump.  She snuggled under the car blanket Bubba’s Daddy kept in the back seat, and started thinkin’ about their wedding and how she wanted the whole town to be there, so they could all be as happy as she was.

She said later that she might of fell asleep, and got woke up by this funny chokin’ noise.  It seemed like the night had gotten darker, and there was something scratching away on the roof of that old Ford.  It weren’t too long and the choking noise went away and there was just that soft ‘skritch skritch’ on the roof and the softest little dripping sound.  She couldn’t see a thing through the windows, and wondered if some clouds might of moved in to cover that little scythe of a moon.

Eventually she got lulled to sleep by the skritchin’ and the sound of the wind in the trees, She told me herself, as she was packin’ to move as far away from here as her Aunt and Uncle would go.

Next thing she knew, someone was callin’ her name and knockin’ on the car.  She answered the Sheriff and told him they were okay, that Bubba had gone to get a jump ‘cause they’d run the battery in his Daddy’s car dead.

“Prissy, honey, I want you to take my hand when I open the door, follow me and whatever you do, don’t look back.”  The door creaked open and the Sheriff’s big ole calloused hand was stuck in.

Prissy done what he said, until about halfway to his police car; then she asked where Bubba was, an’ was he all right.

The Sheriff kind of choked an’ said he’d tell when they was in the car.  Prissy stopped dead in her tracks an’ told the Sheriff that she wasn’t goin’ anywhere till she knew that Bubba was okay.

The Sheriff almost fell, she were that stubborn, her feet was planted just like a mule’s and her chin stuck out, makin’ her look like one o’ them kitchen witches.

“Where… Is… Bubba?”  She snapped, soundin’ an awful lot like a Marine D. I., “I want to know if he’s all right.”

She spun around and started screamin’, by the time they got that poor child to the Doc, her voice was gone and she just sat there, starin’ at nothin’.  The Doc gave her somethin’ and she collapsed like a balloon when the air gets out.

Y’see, when poor Prissy turned ‘round, there was Bubba, hangin’, upside down from a tree branch over the car, his throat cut wide open, blood smeared all over that old Ford, and his fingernails skritchin’ just a little on the roof of the car.  The worst part was that his lips an’ tongue was gone.

To this day I wonder who was makin’ that trumpet-buzzing that night.  The Coroner said that Bubba had died almost as soon as he got outta the car, so he couldn’t of been doin’ it.

People say we’re better off not knowin’, an’ they’re right.  I saw who did that to Bubba, an’ I’ll never forget, or tell another soul; it was that bad.

Nope… Nope, I’m not sayin’ another word, it is getting on to suppertime an’ I hear some o’ your parents callin’ you in to eat.  Hurry on home, an’ don’t stop to talk to any strangers.

27
Oct

Graveyard Gravel

This year at a grocery store near us they were selling these awesome apothecary-style candy jars, decorated with bats and dancing skeletons.  Mum bought two of them, one for me and one for Matt.

Matt filled his with these wrapped chocolates called ‘Creepy Peepers’, the foil wrappings are printed to look like human eyeballs.  They are a Halloween specialty and great fun to have on hand.

I had to do something different, just because it would be so much more fun thataways.  I bought a bag of unwrapped mixed chocolates, shook them up and pured them into the jar.

After looking at them, and showing them to Mum and Matt, we came up with the perfect name for them…’Graveyard Gravel’.  You can be sure we’ll lhave Graveyard Gravel at our house every year now!!

27
Oct

A Halloween Ha-Ha

What do you call an empty spectre?

A Hollow-ween Ghost!!!

Heheheheheheheheheheheheh!!

27
Oct

A Halloween Ha-Ha

What do you call an empty spectre?

A Hollow-ween Ghost!!!

Heheheheheheheheheheheheh!!

27
Oct

A Midnight Dreary

 

I not only write ghost stories

I’ve lived some.

enjoy 

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About 10 years ago my husband and our three kids moved back to Mountlake Terrace. When we moved to Terrace we moved into a brand new Apartment Complex, I think there had been less then a half dozen renters in the place.

So it was new and spiffy and energy efficient.

About two weeks after we moved in I was in my bathroom brushing my teeth before bed.

It had been raining and thundering all evening, so when I started to see flashes of lighting it wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Anyway, I was looking into my bathroom mirror- I saw myself, I saw my bedroom window over my shoulder and then I saw blinding white light in the mirror and then my teeth slammed together and there was this deafening roar and all I could think was, ” I’m in trouble. “

I wasn’t in trouble- but the tree outside my bedroom window was.

 The next day we found out it had been hit by lightning and you could see the scorch mark down one side and two of its limbs were blasted off and another was left dangling.

The kids played and tugged at the damaged tree limb until it came off. I remember them dragging it around for a while and the maintenance man broke it up and threw it away.

It was shortly after that  when the ghosts came.

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My youngest son is a social animal.

At the age of  7 and after only a few weeks of living in our new place he knew everyone. By that I mean he knew names and who lived where and what they did and their pets names and millions of other little details.

Don’t ask me how he did it.

Then he changed.

It was a gradual change-  my son started to sleep a lot during the day,  he started getting dark circles under his eyes and when he started hiding his favorite toys around the living room I thought that maybe the move had affected him after all.

One day I was pulling his collection of Ninja Turtles from out of my bookcase (he had hidden them behind the books) when he went walking by with his skateboard under his arm and said he wanted to take a nap.

It was about 2:00 in the afternoon and enough was enough.

I asked why he was so tired and he said, ” this little boy comes into my room at night and plays with my toys and he’s keeping me awake.”

” Is that why you’re hiding your toys? “

” Yeah. “

 Is it working? ” I said trying to play along.

My son shrugged and went into his room and took his nap.

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It was a little while after the toys in the bookshelf incident when my Sister came over for a visit.

My kids had insisted on a pet hamster because not only did their Mom have a cat she had pet rats and the boys decided pets shouldn’t be something only Moms got to have.

They named  their new pet Scooter.

My Sister and I were alone in the apartment- the kids, my husband and her husband were all out buying pizza.

We were in the kid’s room playing with Scooter.

We put him into one of those little balls hamsters  can run around in and I remember my cat was sitting in the doorway and I was going to push the ball with the hamster in it towards him.

My cat had been raised with my rats and he had this thing were he wouldn’t go for rats or hamsters and my Sister didn’t believe it.

So we both look up to where Wolfgang had been sitting when this little boy ran right passed the bedroom door and down the hall towards my bedroom.

” Who’s that? “ my Sister asked.

” Probably a neighbor kid. They walk in all the time. “

I went to get the kid when my cat sort of slinked around the corner and he looked up at me and growled.

I don’t mean that cat growl- it was big and deep and his ears flattened against his head.

I went to push him out of the way with my foot and he reached forward and grabbed my ankle with his teeth. Then he started to  jerk backwards with these little snaps to his neck and the entire time he’s doing this he’s looking up at me and growling.

Then he sort of turned without letting go and tried to pull me back into my kid’s room.

My sister was yelling, I was screaming  because my cat was holding onto my ankle and the blood was starting to run and no matter what we did or how loud we yelled he wouldn’t let go.

Then his ears went back up; he let go of  my ankle and he walked out into the living room.

” There’s no one in the apartment except us…is there? ” my Sister asked.

I remember I couldn’t answer because I didn’t know.

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I’ll leave you with this final ghost story-

Out of a dead sleep I woke up at exactly 1:45 in the morning and standing beside my bed was my Grandfather.

I was really glad to see him- it had been about 14 years since he had died. He’d missed my Wedding and my High school Graduation and a million other great things.

Now I was going to get the chance to tell him all about it and I remember trying to wake up more so that I could get my husband to wake up and meet my Grandpa.

I was surprised- but not that my Grandfather was there but that he looked so young.

He looked like he did in his late 30’s- I’d only seen pictures of him in those days and I wasn’t sure why he looked like that and not like the man I’d known.

But that was okay- all that mattered was that he was here now.

This went on for a week- I’d wake up at the same time and there he was standing by me looking happy and relaxed and pleased to see me.

At the end of the week my Grandfather’s sister passed away.

I was heartbroken- she was a great lady and she use to tell this great story about performing in a childrens choir ‘back in the day’ for Prisoners in an honest to goodness Prison.

They were singing for genuine convicted killers and robbers.

I use to ask a million questions about what it was like inside of a Prison and she was happy to tell me.

Plus she could whistle through her teeth.

She had a great life if you ask me.

Anyway, I never asked what time she died- I was sure I already knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

So there are my stories- are they true?

Did they really happen?

Did they?

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