Posted: February 14, 2008
Hi, Brian.
I hope my stories aren’t too late for your annual Halloween ghost tales. We used to live in a house here in Chicago that the neighbors said was haunted and I thought I’d tell you what one former owner experienced and then relate what happened when we lived there.
My husband and I bought the house in 1993 and we never had any weird experiences except for one minor one when we were watching TV one night and it sounded like somebody was coming down the stairs from the second floor. No one else was in the house and the cat was sleeping next to me on the sofa. I said to my husband “Didn’t it just sound like somebody was coming down the last 4 steps out there?” He laughed and just said “Yeah.” That was it; end of discussion. We forgot about it.
Fast forward a couple of years to a neighborhood party we attended at a house across the alley from ours. I overheard one of the neighbors say “Isn’t that the house that used to be haunted?” A couple of people laughed and I said “Oh, which one?” He pointed out the white one with the red trim—our house. “Oh no,” I said. Then he proceeded to tell me that the woman who owned the house two families before ours was there at the party and had stories to tell, so I went over to her, introduced myself, and asked her to tell me her stories. Here’s what she said.
A ghost definitely lived with her family. Her husband laughed about it and liked it, but she frequently was on the receiving end of pranks played by the ghost. This was typical poltergeist-type stuff. For example, she would hear someone coming down the stairs, but when she looked, no one was there. One day, she heard all four of the bedroom and bathroom doors upstairs slam shut at once, but when she went up to investigate, all the doors were standing open as she had left them. Then one evening they had guests over for dinner. Her family and the guests were sitting in the living room talking when all of a sudden several books came out of the bookcases that flanked the fireplace, hung in the air, and then fell to the floor. She got tired of these happenings, so she asked a priest at her church to come over and bless the house. He did and all of the events stopped. I’m not trying to promote anybody’s religion here; I’m just relating what she told me.
Still, my husband and I never had any weird experiences. Then, 10 years ago, we adopted a 14-month-old baby. She was our pride and joy and still is. But as she grew up and started to talk, I began to realize that sometimes she saw people in the house who I couldn’t see.
I know this sounds totally nuts, and I also know that kids sometimes have imaginary friends, but this wasn’t like that. She never smiled when she told me what she saw; in fact she sometimes looked uneasy. There were only 4 unrelated episodes and they all occurred when she was between the ages of 2 and 4 ½.
My daughter’s speech development was delayed, so she spoke only single words until she was almost 3. Whenever she saw a man walking down the street, she would point and say “Man!” and I’d say, “Yes, that’s a man walking.” Once, when she was about 2 ½, I carried her down into the basement so I could put some laundry into the dryer and as we descended the stairs, she looked at the south wall of the basement, pointed, and said “Man!” I said. “There’s no man there. Do you see a man?” She nodded yes. I became unsettled, remembering the former owner's stories, and said “What does he look like?” “Beard,” she said. I assured her there was no man and proceeded with the laundry.
The second time it happened, my daughter was 3 ½. We were walking down a short hallway from the dining room into the kitchen, she trailing behind me. I reached the kitchen and my daughter turned behind her and said, “Santa Claus is in the dining room…Oh! Now he’s coming in here!” She ran to me with a troubled look on her face. Again, I assured her no one was there.
Another time, when she was about 4 years old, we were sitting at the dining room table. She was coloring and I don’t remember what I was doing, maybe going through some papers. Suddenly, out of the blue, she said, “I’m not a boy!” I said, “I know you’re not a boy. Who says you’re a boy?” “He did,” she said. “Who?” I asked. “That boy right there,” she said, pointing to the chair across from me. “”You see a boy sitting in that chair?” I asked. She nodded. I said, “I don’t see any boy.” I didn’t know what to say next. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it or to scare her, but I wanted to know more. “What’s he wearing?” I asked. “Those kind of jeans that go…” and she gestured with her hands up and down near her shoulders. I took it to mean bib overalls. I said nothing more, but I was quite ill at ease and suggested we do something in the family room instead.
The last time it happened, we were in the car outside of our house, coming back from doing errands. She had fallen asleep in her car seat in the back seat and I let her sleep for awhile as I sat in the driver’s seat. It started to get dark, so I woke her up. She awoke with a start, looked into the front yard and said “Who are those people?” I asked “What people?” “Those people sitting under the bushes,” she said. I told her no one was under the bushes and it was time to go in. After some fussing, she agreed. I realize this time it could just have been a dream she was having, but I’m including it anyway, given the previous occurrences.
After that, she never seemed to see anyone else in the house (who I couldn’t see). It seems as if the older she got, the less able she was to detect anything. She’s 11 now and remembers nothing. I’ve never told her about these experiences. Maybe I will when she’s older. I’d be very interested to hear about anyone else who has had a child with similar experiences. Thanks, Brian for letting me tell my stories. I appreciate the work you’re doing—keep it up!
Thank you to the person for relating a very interesting story about their home.
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