 | 29 Oct 09 |
I’d never really been the kind of person who believed in ghosts until I lived with one.
Years ago, we bought our first house from the family of a woman who’d died there. That family had been the original owners back when that particular long-established neighborhood was nothing more than a field, and the city of Baton Rouge barely had electricity. The woman had grown up there as a child, married, lived there, had one daughter, and died there. By all accounts, she was a sweet old woman who loved children and was broken hearted to have not been able to have more. Her daughter had not been able to have any, either, and this was a constant source of sadness to her.
When we moved in, the house needed tremendous work, as it was still lodged back in the 30s and 40s. (I am not exaggerating, people. I saw wiring there that even antiques would think was antique.) We worked on the house while I was pregnant with our first kid, and I never really thought much of the fact that if I mentioned something was missing, it turned up a few minutes later in plain sight. I just thought, “hormones” and that I was overlooking easy stuff.
After Luke was born, a strange thing started happening–well, there was more of the finding things, but the rocking chair in the living room would just start rocking, all on its own. It would be different rhythms at different times–sometimes leisurely, sometimes a bit frantic. There’d be no one else in the house but me, Luke and that chair. I’d move the chair to other parts of the room, and then other rooms in the house, thinking that the rhythm of me walking across the floor was setting the thing into motion. Nope. I actually tried using walking across the floor to set the thing in motion and the damned thing remained stock still.
Cue Toni wondering about her sanity. (Sadly, not for the last time.)
Luke had colic, pretty awful, actually, and there were a lot of sleepless nights and catnaps caught whenever I could, because he was miserable. This went on for nine months, at which point I was pretty sure I had lost my mind back in month 6 and no one had bothered to tell me. All through this, the chair kept rocking, things kept turning up as I needed them. The mailman started asking after my ‘grandmother’ who he sometimes waved to when he was delivering the mail. I thought he meant my husband’s grandmother who lived across the street and visited often, but he actually knew her by name and said, “No, the other lady. The tall one.” I had exactly zero tall grandmothers present.
I took all of this in stride because frankly, I was so exhausted, that “crazy” wasn’t really all that far to go, and I figured that if I started talking about ghosts and rocking chairs and imaginary grandmas and things turning up, someone was going to come quietly take me away and I didn’t want my kid to know his mom had gone looney. (Poor thing has no choice now. But he’s old enough to handle it.)
One night, I heard Luke crying and I was so weary, I stumbled down the short hall to his room, looked in as I approached and the moon was shining through his window, illuminating an old woman bent over his crib. I screamed bloody murder. It is the one time in my life I am ashamed to say I didn’t act, didn’t move forward, just screamed. I scared the living hell out of Carl, who flew past me to see what was wrong, and the woman was gone. (We were blocking the only exit.) Luke, on the other hand, was sleeping for the first time in days, and continued to sleep, in spite of my freaking out. [As an older kid--when he was about six, he commented once on the old lady that came to visit him sometimes.]
There was a particular stint, though, where Luke seemed to get worse instead of better and the doctors just kept assuring me he’d grow out of it. I think it had been about three or four days with only two hours of sleep here or there, and I was just so cranky and tired, it wasn’t funny. I hadn’t bathed, I don’t think I ate anything healthier than days-old pizza, and that damned rocker just kept going off and rocking frantically. The more Luke cried, the more the damned thing rocked, and finally, middle of the day, Luke screaming at the top of his lungs, the rocker going ninety-to-nothing, I snapped. I turned to the rocker and yelled at it and said, “Could you just stop it! You’re driving me nuts!”
And it stopped. Right there. Mid-rock. Just stopped.
The evidence of her presence didn’t go away–but it wasn’t as scary dramatic after that, which I greatly appreciated.
Later, we moved (I took the chair with me–it has never rocked on its own elsewhere). I had kinda forgotten about the ghost, but one day was visiting my sister-in-law who now lives on the same block as that old house. I commented on all of the improvements they’d just made, and she said they were moving out. Suddenly. She said, “the wife claims the house is haunted and won’t live there.” The woman told another neighbor that the ghost apparently didn’t like her husband much because his keys constantly went missing, even though they would put them in a place where the kids couldn’t reach them. His stuff was constantly falling off shelves and breaking. Buttons missing from shirts. But the crowning moment for them was when he was yelling at the kids and his keys came flying across the room and smacked him on the head–and there was no one standing where the keys had originated from. They swore they saw an old woman at times, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.
I have to admit, I’m really curious if the new owners have experienced the same thing, but I haven’t been brave enough to go knock on the door and ask. How do you explain that sort of thing without them calling the police and having you carted off?
So, how about you? Ever run into any ghosts? Know of a good ghost story? Believe? Don’t believe?
Toni McGee Causey lives in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. She and her husband, Carl, are licensed general contractors and, in order to support her writing addition, they run their own company, specializing in civil construction.
Subscribe to Posts 
Cool story, Toni!
by Margaret A. Golla October 29th, 2009 at 7:27 amNope, no experience with ghosties though I love reading and hearing about them!
We stayed with a friend in New England, and he said they had a resident ghost who used to do things like move jewelry (of course, you know hubby arranged the few pieces I’d brought along on the dresser so he could ‘test’ it).
The ghost, according to our host, had never done anything ‘bad’ to them, but her appearances became more frequent, and he was concerned for his young daughter. He said he had a ‘chat’ with the ghost and said she could do whatever she wanted as long as she stayed away from the child’s bedroom. Which, apparently, she did. However, during our brief stay, we never noticed any otherwordly signs (and no, the jewelry didn’t move – no ghost would accept hubby’s blatant challenge.)
by Terry Odell October 29th, 2009 at 7:41 amWow! You are one brave lady. I would have grabbed the kids and ran. Hubby would have been ticked off at having to move suddenly but that would have been too bad.
by HollyD October 29th, 2009 at 7:58 amI believe in ghosts. I think that the shadow you sometimes see out of the corner of your eye, you turn and nothing is there, is ghosts.
Whenever someone dies in our family I get visited in my dreams just after they pass. I get a final good-bye.
by Jill James October 29th, 2009 at 10:02 amHoly carp, Toni. That story gave me goosebumps. I seriously do not want to believe in ghosts because they scare me. Period. But there are some very strange goings on in my house at times — which, by the way, is practically brand new, built by us 14 years ago, on a piece of land that really isn’t land, but a dredged-up man-made island, so it’s not like we built on ancient tribal burial ground or anything.
I do believe that some people can see or sense ghosts more than others. Unfortunately, one of those people is my daughter, and the evidence of her abilities started before she could talk.
I just don’t want to go there, honestly, but I loved your story and can’t believe you weren’t Freaked Out Of Your Ever Lovin’ Mind.
xo
by Roxanne St. Claire October 29th, 2009 at 11:18 amToni, loved your story–well except for your son’s colic and your exhaustion. I haven’t run into many ghosts, although I have a couple experiences with my dad who died when I was 13. The weirdest was the time the horse I was riding began to fall. I dove off and as I hit the ground, I head my dad yell, “Roll Jen!” I did and the horse barely missed landing on me.
Never lived in a haunted house though!
by Jen Lyon October 29th, 2009 at 12:11 pmI don’t think I’ve ever lived in a house that wasn’t haunted. The house I grew up in had a cowboy from the Chisolm Trail hanging around. Our quarters in the Army were…lively. The house we brought The Only home to from the hospital had a friendly ghost who saved Lawyer Guy from getting hurt several times when he’d stumble on the stairs and we’d often hear her talking to him. The house we moved to after that was spook central. Seriously. The second floor landing was like a bus stop or something. Spirits were coming and going all the time. Drove our Newfoundland and Siberian crazy. Our house now is relative quiet, comparatively, though we get the occasional odd haunt passing through.
I should mention that Lawyer Guy’s great grandmother was a medicine woman and had the Gift and there’s a reason I write paranormals, even in my romantic suspenses.
by Silver James October 29th, 2009 at 3:01 pmI haven’t encountered a ghost, but I absolutely believe in them. Too many stories and weird events to be random or coincidence. I haven’t met God, but I believe in Him too.
I love a good ghost story. I hope to write some one day . . .
by Allison Brennan October 29th, 2009 at 3:38 pmWeeeeel, I kind of sort of do believe in ghosts. I haven’t met any tho’. Not really thinkin’ I want to either. But I think they are out there…
by Karin Tabke October 29th, 2009 at 3:53 pmWow – just, wow.
by catie james October 29th, 2009 at 6:05 pmWow, Toni your story gave me goosebumps.
by Jessica Scott October 30th, 2009 at 12:56 amI haven’t lived with a ghost but I do believe in things beyond the natural. My company went to the St Elijah Monastery last week here in Mosul. It’s dated to about 600 AD and is still standing despite being used by Iraqi forces and American. Anyway, we were exploring and the time came to move into the actual chapel. As I got closer to it, my lungs seemed to stop working right. I couldn’t take a deep breath and I felt a deep sense of foreboding.
Turns out, the Christian monks had been slaughtered in the late 19th century in the sanctuary. I don’t know if that’s what I felt or not, but it creeped me out.
I had the same thing happen out front of one our company headquarters, too. We lost a soldier to a mortar attack. I was sitting in the truck out side, waiting for my other half to come out and felt the same sense. Pressure on my chest. Difficulty breathing.
I don’t know if it was something beyond natural or not, but I’m convinced that something was happening there, reaching out.
I hope that doesn’t come off as crazy but yeah, I believe in ghosts.
How very lucky you were to have an extra grandmother at your house. I’m sure it was a bit disconcerting, but we just aren’t used to ghosts being an accepted phenomenon. We live in an 1898 victorian farm house. The first night in the house I awoke knowing something was watching from the doorway. Not a threat, just a presence that was welcoming. Our son claims he woke up one night to see a girl about 10 standing near his bed. People who have lived in the house have told us of the white lady that is seen in the upstairs hall before someone dies. Our daughter saw it the night before our cat died. Our middle daughter will not stay in the house. She is the only one who has had a bad experience. She was house sitting with her newborn and sleeping in the family room we added to the old house. She woke in the middle of the night to take care of the baby and felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She felt a threatening presence. When she looked toward the hallway to the old part of the house, there was a green shape taking form. At that point, our lab got up and started growling with her hair on end. The dog headed for the thing in the hallway growling. Just before it got there, the “whatever” vanished. At that point, the dog turned around and came back over to the sofa and my daughter. She won’t stay at our house, but our grandson does all the time. So far, no sightings from him.
by Patricia Barraclough October 30th, 2009 at 9:25 pmI believe in spirits. I really don’t have a story, but I love yours.
by Cele November 1st, 2009 at 10:40 pm