True Stories of Time Travel and Other Dimensions

Ronnie met children who seemed to be from an earlier time. 

I live in London and it was late October, 1969, and I was walking home late one Saturday night. I had to walk through an underpass, which was under the busy North Circular Road. It was cold and late and I was surprised to see about five kids down there collecting pennies for the Guy, being as firework night, 5th November, was soon. These kids should not have been out that late, seeing as the oldest was a girl aged about 12 years old and the others younger. 

What shocked me were their clothes. Their attire made me think they had come straight out of 1920s or 1930s London. Their speech could have been taken straight from a Charles Dickens' novel. I heard one young boy say, "That other gent gave me a florin." At his age there is no way he could have known what a florin was, an old English coin for the then two shillings. 

This was the late 1960s and kids certainly didn't use words like "gent" anymore. "Geezer" or "bloke" perhaps. 

The girl approached me saying, "Evening sir, penny for the Guy, please, sir?" Her politeness shocked me, but I said I hadn't any money. She slid her arm through mine and she ran her hand down my sleeve saying, "Yes you do, sir. You are a fine gent. You do have money." I assured her I hadn't and I expected a rude mouthful, but she replied, "Ok, thank you, sir. You have a good evening, sir." 

I knew I had to give these kids something, so I pulled a silver sixpence from my pocket and called her. I threw her the coin and she gave me a thank you and a beaming smile. I walked off into the night. 

This experience bugged me bad. Who were those kids from the past? I asked local people if any kids were killed there during WW2, but nobody remembered. Did I meet ghosts? Kids from the past? I guess I will never know.  ~

This story takes place in Austintown, Ohio on Route 76 back in 1981. I was 20. Dad asked me if I wanted to look at a house that was for rent. The next morning we went to his mom's house at 5:00 for some coffee. She asked what we were doing out so early. Dad told her that we were meeting a realtor at at 6:00. At 5:30, we left getting to the house a couple minutes before 6. 

As we pulled in the drive, we noticed the yard had not been cared for. The house was a rectangular two-story dwelling with front windows only on the second floor. As we got out of the van, it was a quiet, calm day except for two kids laughing in the back yard. We figured it was the neighbor kids from across the street. As we approached the back of the house, there was a swing set with two swings. They were swinging in opposite directions with nobody on them. There was laughter of a boy and a girl. Another quick glance and the swings were still. Dad asked if I had seen that. I had. 

We proceeded back to the side of the house. We passed the garage. It had two wooden doors with small glass panes. We looked in the window. The garage had a dirt floor and was empty. We walked up to the side porch. The door was unlocked so we went inside.  

Dad turned on the switch, but no lights came on. I tried a few with no luck. The inside of the house was weird. There was a large room with doorways branching off. The living room was like none I had ever seen. It was about 10x40 with no windows except for the small one in the door. I went back into where dad was. He was trying to open the basement door, which was locked. Dad asked if I was ready to go. Instead of leaving, he went into the living room and stared out the front door window for about three or four minutes. I was about to go upstairs when I got an eerie feeling. So, I stayed in the main area. 

Dad then came out and asked if I was ready to go again. At that point, dad made the remark that we hadn't tried that door. We had. It was the locked basement door. He turned the knob and the door opened. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Now I was getting scared. Dad flipped the light switch and it came on. I was wondering why the other lights didn't come on earlier. Dad proceeded to go down the steps, but I was leary. I went down. The basement was small. There was an old wringer washer with a loaded revolver on the lid. It was like the silver and ivory-handled cap guns that kids use today. I picked it up four inches off the lid and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a light cord moving. The lights went out and the door slammed shut. It was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. I felt aimlessly for my dad. Holding his shirt, we went up the stairs. At the top, he stopped and let out a blood-curdling scream. It made my blood run cold. I pushed him and he pushed the door open. All the lights were on and it was dark outside. 

After jumping in the van, dad turned the headlights on. The garage doors were open. There was a lamb lying on the dirt floor with its throat slashed, jerking violently. Blood was running into the dirt. 

When we arrived back at my grandmother's, it was 2:30 a.m. She asked where we had been all day. We had lost 21 hours in five minutes time in the basement. Later, we drove past the house and all the doors were shut and the lights were out. When I would ask dad about what he had seen, he would cuddle in the corner and shake like a kid crying. To this day, I don't know what he saw and I don't want to know. Since he has passed away, I will never know. 

When I went back in 1987, to see if the house was still there, it was boarded up. There was a large FBI sign on the house stating that for your own safety, stay out.  ~