Chit Chat in VOLTVILLE Thread #2 :)
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It's a possibility, Sandy. Whatever is was, it was freaky, as QRXT just said.
I never went in that chicken coop and no one that I knew ever went into it either. Years later, my kid sister went into it and she told me that she saw a man in there. He was there and then he was gone.
Hi Princess. I will tell you this much, that happened when I was 13 or 14. I'm 64 now and I still walk on that trail, but I have never gone near where that bush was and I never will.Oh man that is scary Jerry.
Evie is on several threads, QRXT. She comes and goes, but she should be back.
I don't blame you Papa. I have one I'll share if that is okay with everyone.
When we first moved in this house my oldest son was only 3 months old. I started seeing something in my peripheral vision but when I turned my head it would be gone. I told my grandmother about it and she told me to look forward but focus on my peripheral vision when it returned to get a better look.
I did this the next time it came. I got a better look but I also got scared because it was a woman indian dark almost black and white image and her focus was watching over my son. I turned my head and she disappeared. I once again told my grandmother and described the woman to her. She then went and retrieved a picture of her grandmother, a full blooded creek indian. This is the woman I had been seeing.
Grandmother then told me the legend of her grandmother. Her grandmother had lost 2 or 3 babies to crib death and when she died she vowed that her children would never know that pain and that she would also look over her grandchildren. She told me the next time I saw her not to turn my head but to say "Thank you for watching over your grandson" I did as she asked and when I spoke the image of my grandmother grew warmer appeared in more color and I could feel love. I stopped seeing her after my 2nd son was a year old.
I'm reading back, catching up on what everyone else has posted. Those stories are great !!!!!
Thanks Papa, I was typing my ghost story. It is nice to meet you both.
Hi QRXT thank you for the welcome.
That's a beautiful story, Princess. Thank you for sharing it and I know that the others appreciate you sharing it with us too.I don't blame you Papa. I have one I'll share if that is okay with everyone.
When we first moved in this house my oldest son was only 3 months old. I started seeing something in my peripheral vision but when I turned my head it would be gone. I told my grandmother about it and she told me to look forward but focus on my peripheral vision when it returned to get a better look.
I did this the next time it came. I got a better look but I also got scared because it was a woman indian dark almost black and white image and her focus was watching over my son. I turned my head and she disappeared. I once again told my grandmother and described the woman to her. She then went and retrieved a picture of her grandmother, a full blooded creek indian. This is the woman I had been seeing.
Grandmother then told me the legend of her grandmother. Her grandmother had lost 2 or 3 babies to crib death and when she died she vowed that her children would never know that pain and that she would also look over her grandchildren. She told me the next time I saw her not to turn my head but to say "Thank you for watching over your grandson" I did as she asked and when I spoke the image of my grandmother grew warmer appeared in more color and I could feel love. I stopped seeing her after my 2nd son was a year old.
Welcome, Evie. That's a wonderful story! Should we all be so lucky!
I hope you'll come back again and are not just here for the ghost stories, as fascinating as they are.
I hope you'll come back again and are not just here for the ghost stories, as fascinating as they are.
Evie is a sweet lady, Sandy. I hope that she comes back here too.
Awww Your sweet Papa but your also biased.
Great stories, Peeps. I was close to my maternal grandfather and he smoked cigars. He always had a cigar in his mouth. He lived in the city, but he loved the country and used to come here as often as he could. Sometimes, I smell his cigar smoke and I believe that he still comes here for a visit, every now and then.
What, me biased? LOLAwww Your sweet Papa but your also biased.
Here's another one.
Bill & I visited Alcatraz, the famous abandoned and haunted prison on an island in San Francisco Bay. I've been places where I thought I felt the presence of ghosts, but as we toured the prison, I didn't get that feeling. I was a little surprised and disappointed.
Then we went down to the basement, where there was a solitary confinement cell open so the public could go in and see it. Bill walked in and said, "Look at this," about something inside, and I started to follow him, but when I got to the doorway, I froze. It seemed I couldn't step over the threshold. It was a weird feeling, and I shook my head and said, "This is silly," and forced myself to go through the doorway. I can't describe the feeling. It was probably a panic attack. All I could think of was getting out again. I stepped back outside, and I was immediately back to normal.
Those of you who know me understand that I'm not normally fearful, nor am I claustrophobic. I toured a submarine in Philadelphia with much tighter spaces with no problem. I don't know what it was, but all I can think was that I was picking up the accumulated vibes of the panic of being shut in there that hundreds of inmates must have felt. It was a very strong feeling and totally out of character for me.
Bill & I visited Alcatraz, the famous abandoned and haunted prison on an island in San Francisco Bay. I've been places where I thought I felt the presence of ghosts, but as we toured the prison, I didn't get that feeling. I was a little surprised and disappointed.
Then we went down to the basement, where there was a solitary confinement cell open so the public could go in and see it. Bill walked in and said, "Look at this," about something inside, and I started to follow him, but when I got to the doorway, I froze. It seemed I couldn't step over the threshold. It was a weird feeling, and I shook my head and said, "This is silly," and forced myself to go through the doorway. I can't describe the feeling. It was probably a panic attack. All I could think of was getting out again. I stepped back outside, and I was immediately back to normal.
Those of you who know me understand that I'm not normally fearful, nor am I claustrophobic. I toured a submarine in Philadelphia with much tighter spaces with no problem. I don't know what it was, but all I can think was that I was picking up the accumulated vibes of the panic of being shut in there that hundreds of inmates must have felt. It was a very strong feeling and totally out of character for me.
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