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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 26, 2020 12:09:45 GMT -6
Ghost StoriesLake of Ghosts 👻
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 26, 2020 12:29:24 GMT -6
1. I stayed at my grandmother’s house that my father spent a large amount of time in as a kid. My father drove us there in one go and was understandably tired after a 17-hour drive. We all started to lay down and my father checked in on us before going to bed himself. As he was talking he talking, he stop himself and told us to cover a large mirror “or you will have nightmares”. Now, nightmares from a mirror of all things sounded like a little fun to me, but my brothers, who were also sleeping in the same room, ask me to cover it. I did. I asked my Dad about it before he left and he said ghosts use it as an entryway. A week later, I brought it up with my grandmother and she scoffed saying, “oh, this house ain’t haunted”. I agreed, but told her that the reason I brought it up was because my Dad told me to cover a mirror. My grandmother then changed her expression and said, “OH, the mirror?” Apparently, that mirror came from her grandmother. She worked as a nurse and took in those who were going to die, but could not pay for care on their last days. So, she made her home into a hospice. Those who stayed in the room with the mirror, saw things. A lovely old lady saw and heard a young lady come into her room and played a harp. She was thankful for the lovely songs, but no person was known nor was a harp owned or heard elsewhere. A young boy found an older boy who played games with him and “really knew his games”. Lastly, a terrible woman (refused to use the bathroom and shat in a cooking pot then hid it under her bed and well as argue/issued everyone daily) saw, and this is her words, “The devil” that spat fire at her. (The police were called and she tried to accuse the nurse of trying to kill her with the devil) I also got stories from my mother seeing the same young lady who played the harp (without her harp that time) and my grandfather seeing the “devil” guy. My grandfather described it as a red man with horns that was too tall for the room he was in so he, still standing up straight, bent his neck down to fit. It stared down at him and simply asked, slowly, “WHY. ARE. YOU. HERE?” I kept that mirror covered. 👻
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Post by lostineternity99 on Mar 27, 2020 4:25:55 GMT -6
LOL ... I also would have kept the mirror covered!
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 27, 2020 9:45:11 GMT -6
Me too, Rick.
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 27, 2020 9:46:18 GMT -6
My mom believes in good spirits and getting blessings for good luck and protection by putting out food offerings for them on our dining table. My mom does this for special days and after she’s done with her prayers that’s when anyone can eat the food. She usually does it in the morning and then by the afternoon that’s when food is free for the taking. So it’s a typical afternoon, I was online on my laptop in my room and I got hungry. My room was connected to a small hallway and at the end of the hallway is the living room and the dining table. So I opened my door and stepped out into the hallway and I saw something on top of the table eating. It was hard to make out at first because I’m nearsighted and this thing was kinda transparent. I got closer and stopped halfway through the hallway and I realized.. there was a literal transparent brown monkey on the table. It was making motions as if it was eating some of the fruit offerings. It didn’t notice me yet and in my disbelief I got even closer, but when I stopped in my tracks again right at the end of the hallway, it noticed me and got startled. I’m startled, the monkey’s startled, and I’m just standing there and not believing my eyes. Very quickly, this transparent monkey just jumps off the table and ambles off hastily towards the exit where the outer door is locked. That’s it, I just stood there staring at the door where it fled and I’m just like… wow I really can’t believe what I just saw. In American horror movies and scary stories, there’s hardly anything about ghost monkeys. I don’t consume that kind of content… and ghost monkey?? Who’d have thunk it. Anyway later on I told my mom about what I saw and she didn’t even blink. I might as well have told her that the sky is blue, I’m her daughter, etc. She really believes in spirits that much and didn’t doubt my story at all. Also years later I told one of my coworkers (who is also Cambodian around my age, speaks fluently, and has also been to Cambodia) about my experience. He said that there’s a lot of monkeys in Cambodia. I didn’t know this at all and have never seen a monkey irl. My mom doesn’t talk about monkeys and owns nothing related to monkeys. So that’s my story. Neither me nor a ghost monkey expected to be spooked that day lol. 👻
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Post by lostineternity99 on Mar 28, 2020 6:36:57 GMT -6
A ghost monkey, cool
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 28, 2020 13:53:49 GMT -6
The Haunted Painting In 1994, James Kidd, a commercial photographer, placed one of his photos on display at a gallery in Tombstone, Arizona where I was showing some of my oil paintings. The photo was the old stagecoach stop at Tombstone. He first took a photo of the stagecoach stop and an old stagecoach, and then he didn't wind his camera so he could get a double exposure photo with another old wagon in the foreground. When the picture was developed, however, it revealed something unexpected. Standing on a log to the left of the wagon is a figure that the photographer did not see when he took the picture. Upon close inspection, the figure appears to be a headless man! The figure's coat, pants, and boots are quite plain and easy to see. But he has no head. The photographer says the photo has been examined by Kodak and other experts to prove that he did not doctor it in any way. The original photo can be seen at Ghosts of Tombstone. I couldn't get over that photo and asked him if I could do an oil painting of it. (I do most of my paintings from photos I've taken.) He said I could. Back home in Sierra Vista, Arizona, I began work on a 16 x 20-inch oil painting based on the photo. When I was about halfway through completing the painting, I started getting a strange feeling. I began to ask myself: Why on earth did I want to paint this picture? And maybe I should never have started it. But I did finish it. And then some very strange, unexplained things began to happen around my home -- seemingly centered around that painting. I do not believe in ghosts, but I cannot for the life of me explain how or why these strange things have happened. I cannot attribute every one of these events directly to the painting, but they have all taken place since it has been in my house -- and are totally unexplained. The Haunting Begins Office havoc. I took the framed painting with some others for a display in a business location. We hung the ghost painting on the wall behind an office desk. Three days later, people from the office called and asked me to come pick up the ghost painting. Every morning, they claimed, the painting was crooked. They would straighten it, and the next morning it would be crooked again. Also, appointments were inexplicably messed up and papers went missing. They were actually afraid of it. I took the painting back. Mysterious leak. In 1995, my husband and I moved into a brand new home in Tennessee. We wondered if the ghostly goings-on would stop. But they didn't. Oddly, the roof on the garage of this new home had a leak when it rained. The roofers came out three times to repair it, and although they worked on it they said they could not find the cause of the leak. It didn't make any sense. Nothing they did stopped the darn leak. Finally, my husband asked me where the ghost painting was. It was leaning against the wall between the living room and garage. We moved the painting... and the garage roof never leaked again. Spilled salt. One evening I was preparing dinner. We had an island bar and that is where I set the table. I picked up the salt and pepper shakers, which were two little canning jars with handles, and set them on the bar. I went to the door and called to my husband that dinner was ready. When I got back to the bar, salt was spilled all over it and on the floor. The salt shaker, standing upright, was still where I had set it down. We have no animals or children in the house to blame for the spill. It is completely unexplained. Telekinetic starfish. My husband and I were sitting in the garage talking to the little neighbor girl who had come over to visit. On the garage wall were three large dried starfish. They were hanging securely on roofing nails. The garage door was open, but there was no wind blowing or air movement. Suddenly, the largest starfish came sailing off the wall and landed on the concrete floor. It sailed across the floor about six to seven feet. Broken gate. A heavy gate that would have been hard to remove, came off its post for no apparent reason. All the hardware was completely intact. The chipped glass. This event really scared me because it could have injured me. We had been doing some yard work and went into the garage to rest where it was cool. My husband said he would mix us some drinks. He returned with the drinks in thick gold-colored glasses with ice cubes. We finished our drinks, and he said he was going to have another and I said I would too. So he mixed them in the house and brought them out. I had taken one or two sips from my drink when I looked down to see that a large chunk of glass had been broken off the top of the glass. It was perfectly fine the first time I drank from it. Right away I thought my husband had knocked it on something, but he swore he hadn't. We looked all over the garage floor for the piece of glass, but found nothing. We went into the house where my husband fixed the drinks and got down on the floor with flashlights and looked. Nothing. I poured the rest of the drink through a strainer to see if the chunk of glass had fallen in, but there was nothing. The missing piece was too large to swallow without me noticing it, but I still had this sick feeling in my stomach. We never found the missing piece of glass. The disbeliever. I have always taken photos of the paintings I have done. People ask to see the photos of my paintings and most always say they don't want to touch the photo of the ghost painting. The gals at the beauty shop wanted me to bring my pictures in, and one woman started bragging that she did not believe in ghosts and that it was silly of them to avoid touching the picture. "Just let me see it," she said. She took the photo, looked at it closely and just laughed. That night at her house, a clock that had been on the wall for 40 years, fell down and broke into a hundred pieces. The hazy figure plays a hand. Our neighbor wanted to show his mother-in-law the photos of my paintings and took them home with him. They left the pictures laying on the table and started playing a three-handed card game in which a dummy hand must be dealt. When they picked up the dummy hand, every card of the dummy hand was in one suit. That scared them to death, he told me. He got up and went outside to move his water sprinkler, and to this day he still swears that he could see a white hazy figure of a person come around the corner. He came running back to my house with the pictures and said he never wanted to touch them again. Knock knock. The last thing this ghost did was knock on our front door. My husband and I both heard it at the same time. But our two German Shepherds did not hear the knock. Nobody was at the door. Currently, the painting is hanging in our house. A few people have asked to buy the painting, but I am afraid to sell it. What would an unhappy ghost do in their lives? I still don't actually believe in ghosts... Yet if I had it to do over, I would not have created this painting. Coincidences? Overactive imaginations? Or is it just possible that some unknown energy surrounds the portrait of the headless ghost? 👻
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 28, 2020 14:34:36 GMT -6
1. When I was 7 years old I woke up one morning and I saw something strange; a dark hooded figure was pacing back and forth across my room. Terrified, I stuffed my head in the pillow and pulled the covers over my head. 2 minutes later I lifted up my head and the figure was gone. To this day, I have no idea what that figure was or what it wanted. But I have a guess it may have been a shadow being. I also appreciate the fact I didn't scream for the fact the figure didn't kill me. I do not know if it may have been a terror induced hallucination, perhaps something from the deepest darkest pits of my imagination, but I know for sure that incident happened and I am still nervous that figure will one day return with harmful intent. This is one of many paranormal stories I have, I cannot obviously share all of them, but I will tell you I have no idea what these beings want... 👻
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Post by lostineternity99 on Mar 29, 2020 6:12:15 GMT -6
Scary! Since it has not come back I think he or she is safe from this shadow being.
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 29, 2020 11:52:19 GMT -6
I hope so, but at that tender age, the being left lasting fear.
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 29, 2020 11:56:14 GMT -6
Great Grandma Came Back One Last Time This incident took place before I was born, in the mid 20th Century. I heard about it from my father back in the 1980s. When he was a little boy, my father lived in the small village of Llanfrechfa. This was in the county of Gwent, which is in the south east of Wales. That principality is part of the U.K.
Dad was an only child. When he was only one year old, his parents (my Grandma and Grandpa) fell out with each other. Grandma's parents (my Great Grandma and Great Grandpa) were also involved in the argument since they all lived together. I don't know many details because they were hushed up and most letters concerning these matters were destroyed. As far as I know, there was friction between Grandpa and the others. This was mainly because Grandpa was a sailor who travelled the world while the others stayed in Gwent. They had different levels of experience and different attitudes to life, which soon drove them apart. They couldn't get along, so Grandpa left and went back to sea. Sometimes he returned to stay and work in the nearby town of Llanelli, where his own family had a construction firm. He tried to reconcile with Grandma but she refused and eventually they divorced. Grandpa went to Canada and married another woman, fathering a girl who became my aunt.
Grandma, Dad and the Great Grandparents continued living in Llanfrechfa until Dad was eight years old. Then, Grandma decided to take Dad to Llanelli. She planned to work as a midwife and make more money for herself and Dad. She worked hard, literally night and day because babies can be born at any time. Dad studied in Llanelli and then Carmarthen. He was a diligent pupil at school. Eventually, Great Grandma got sick and died. Grandma and Dad went back to Llanfrechfa for the funeral. They stayed on the little family farm, which was a smallholding.
While in the farmhouse after the funeral, Grandma woke up one night. At the end of the bed, she saw the spirit of her mother (Great Grandma). She was a luminous, full-body apparition. She looked as she did in life: fairly short and thin with grey-white hair. She smiled broadly at Grandma and then faded away. Grandma was amazed at this reassuring event. There were no other witnesses, unfortunately. Great Grandma never appeared again, as far as I know. However, I believe that she gave Grandma hope for the future. Grandma and Great Grandma both believed that they had some degree of psychic ability.
Many years later Dad, my brother and I had our own little psychic experiences. When my mother died, Dad seemed to sense her spirit in his house in Llanfair P.G., Anglesey, Wales, UK. He didn't see her though. I was in Dad's house after Mum's funeral, watching TV with high volume, when the TV turned off for no reason. No one pressed any buttons and there was no power cut. I believe that Mum's spirit turned off the TV because she didn't like it loud. I got the message and reduced the volume. Over subsequent years, Dad and I had many psychic dreams of Mum. When Dad died, I had many psychic dreams of him too. My brother has also had several dreams about our parents.
One of Dad's dreams was a premonition of his own death. One of my dreams gave me a secret from Mum. She'd had a miscarriage in 1975 or 1976 and hadn't told me because I was too young to understand. I asked Dad about it and he confirmed it. Mum showed me the baby, which then grew to adulthood in Heaven. I know because I saw it happen in later dreams.
The ultimate message from these experiences is that our late relatives watch over us for the rest of our lives. Sometimes they protect us from danger, such as when I was threatened by two young soldiers at Crewe Railway Station, North England, U.K. I wanted to fight them but an invisible force dragged me toward a railway worker instead. I asked the worker for help and the soldiers left. This might have saved my life. 👻
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Post by lostineternity99 on Mar 30, 2020 5:47:47 GMT -6
It is always good to listen to your inner voice, especially if it is a passed on relative wanting to protect you
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 30, 2020 12:45:24 GMT -6
So true, Rick. Such experiences are not to be taken lightly.
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 30, 2020 12:56:37 GMT -6
Second Time, Second House On my birthday of 2019, September 5th, my girlfriend and I were leaving early for Colorado. We went to bed about 9:30 and about 20 minutes after shutting off the TV and light, neither of us even close to sleep yet, all of a sudden there was a loud crack on the footboard of our bed. About 3 years earlier, I had lived in an apartment where similar things had happened so I knew as soon as it happened just what it was, a ghost or something not of our everyday world. I turned a light on, looked under bed, nothing there or out of place. She turned on a vapor lamp, which she had sage oil in. Very dim light, but, nonetheless, it was light. We laid back down and I kept feeling something touching my face, like a string dangling with just the tip touching my face. This happened several times. First my temple, I'd wipe my hand across it. Next, above my eye. Three or four times. Then I noticed she kept doing the same thing with her hand. I asked, "Are you feeling something touching your face?" She answered, "Yes, a hair keeps tickling me." I told her it wasn't a hair. I was feeling the same. Again, we tried to fall back asleep. A couple seconds later, I heard, very clearly, a human breath in my ear, in and out, or, vise versa. I had enough time to think, did I just hear that? And it did it again, exactly! In and out, or vise versa. About 6 months before this, I had just gotten up. My mom lived with me at the time and made my coffee. As I walked back toward kitchen table, I saw a cat, about same color and size of my dog, run under table. Clearly a cat. On the other side of table, where my mom sat having coffee, only a streak or blur. I looked under the table, even though I knew my dog was still in bed with my girlfriend. No dog! I went to the bedroom to check and Rupert, my dog, was in bed with her. Mom and I had seen shadows out of the corner of our eyes a few times before but that's all in that house. About three years prior, my mom and I had lived in an apartment in the Mohawk valley. About three months in, I woke to a loud crash at either 2am or 2:30am (I forget now), I found two large Rubbermaid bins, which were very heavy, had been pushed end ways into my spice rack and stuff was everywhere. From thereon, for a couple months, things got worse. Palm slaps on couch at 6 at night, messing with our cell phones, etc. We moved to get away, that's how bad it got. Before we moved, I seen a flash of light near a glass based lamp in living room. The glass was very thin and the sound I heard was as if electricity had touched that thin glass at the same time I saw the flash. It was round and almost as big as a volleyball. My dog saw things also. His head would go straight up to the ceiling and across to the front door and he'd bark at top of door. Many things happened in that place. We all heard it but I was the only one to see anything. Just as I was the only one to hear breathing in my ear. As I walked out that same door my dog barked at, I could literally feel the negative energy leave me. Something to know, our phones would be messed with while miles away from the house. I've had the worst bad luck for the last two years, breakdowns at work like never before. And not only at work. Any ideas? 👻
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Post by lostineternity99 on Mar 31, 2020 6:57:22 GMT -6
Not a fun run of paranormal activity for sure
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Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 31, 2020 12:40:39 GMT -6
Just In Time In 2001 my mother moved to Atlanta, Georgia for 4 months for her job. I lived with her but I stayed home instead of going with her. I believe it was in April of that year. I had gone out with my best friend clubbing, something we always did on the weekend when I was in my twenties. We had a great time out that night and when the club let out I drove him home then I went home right afterwards and got on my bed and went to sleep. I will never forget this as long as I live. I was sleeping good but all of a sudden I woke up standing in the middle of my bedroom! I do not sleep walk or wake up and jump out of bed for a few minutes but as I was standing in the middle of my room I looked at the clock and it was 5:34 am. As I turned to look at my bed all of a sudden my bed was on fire at the top where I was sleeping. I was able to grab my comforter and although the flames where rising I was able to put the fire out easily. I was so sleepy that I just went to sleep on the couch. I woke up around nine in the morning thinking that was one crazy vivid dream I had. First thing I noticed was that I had my window up although it was in the low 50's or upper 40's outside. When I walked into my room I saw that my comforter had a big hole in it! I didn't freak out but there was no way possible to know that my bed was about to go up in flames. As I was thinking that somehow I dodged a bullet I vaguely remember that I felt a force yank me out the bed and that is the absolute truth! I also remember that the smoke alarm went off at the same time it occurred but when I checked it there were no batteries in it so it was impossible for it to go off like it did. To this day I wondered if this was a loved one or an guardian angel that yanked me out the bed just in time. When I checked to see what could have caused that to happen I saw that my extension receptacle had shorted because I had my bed pressed up against it exposing the wires in the extension cord. That morning will stay with me forever. 👻
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Post by lostineternity99 on Apr 1, 2020 5:52:09 GMT -6
Sounds like a rescue from a passed on close relative or friend
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Post by QueenFoxy on Apr 1, 2020 8:37:22 GMT -6
Agreed!!
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Post by QueenFoxy on Apr 1, 2020 8:53:00 GMT -6
This story I am about to tell you that happened to me over 13 years back. I was in Qatar for my industrial degree and I never had anyone there as a friend or a family to look after me. I was living in a small room, I even had to use a common toilet until I made some friends after about three weeks attending my classes and we all moved in to one Villa. Seven guys; two from Nepal, two from Philippines, one India and myself and another from Sri Lanka. It was a two story house and newly built and situated in Matar Qadeem Area, it's a residential area with shops and shopping malls. What's common in those houses are the rooftops, there were no roof top except decorated with chairs and tables to chill in the evenings which is what exactly we did when we came home after lectures. I have to tell you, we all of us were smokers, we smoke cigarettes often at home specially after coming home on the roof top chatting and drinking energy drinks, eating junk. Behind to our house these was a road, width of four vehicles and next to the road (Left Side) a huge empty land, this land was under construction and it was all covered by a wall. We could see inside of that land from our roof top but not from the road. One day as usual we were on the rooftop at around 6.15PM and having red bull and smoking and talking about movies and just spending time. We were looking at the surroundings while we talk. But something was unusual, the land which was under constructions were missing, missing in a sense the wall was not there and no construction vehicles were there. The sun was almost gone and we could only make very little vision of the place. But the only available light sources are the yellow street lamps but that is also on the right side of the road. Strange stories started coming in from every one of us, like maybe the owner stopped the construction or they have changed the plan... But still within one day all this change could not happened. That day morning when we were going we did not notice about this land until now. So we decided to have a walk and see what has happened since the wall also not there. As we walk close to the place we could see trees without leaves were planted, and they were tall trees, about eight to ten feet tall. They were not many but three trees with dry bushes and the worse is some gravestones. But the writing we could not recognize since it was all curved in to the stone in Arabic (I think) and it was dark already. We were getting into more and more into the land passing gravestones and then all of a sudden we heard a voice, rather an angry tone with Arabic as if a person is shouting. We stopped and looked at him and by his body language we could see he was not happy and showing us to go outside. We asked him what happened here and why the land was changed as if it's a horror movie site. But the man kept on shouting at us saying the same thing. One guy said let's ignore him and walk around the place and as we did this man came running at us with a stick! We ran and thought we were trespassing some private property and that's the reason why he do not want us in there. And it's very dangerous get caught by police in Qatar for any reason. We ran to the other end of this land which is a normal dust and stones filled area that had nothing unusual. I turned around to see if the man is chasing us but no. He was standing firmly right at the edge of the graveyard holding his stick. This man, his skin color is dark like an African. Tall but slim wearing a big head scarf and brownish robe with another scarf around his heck which was dancing to the evening wind and a long stick but we could not make up his face it was all blurry. I told the others that he must be a hired local guard for the movie site. (Why I come up with a movie idea it's because those days Transformers were done in Qatar so we thought there were more movies coming up) For us to get back to the main road either we have to pass across the graveyard movie site again, or walk around so by default we took the around walk. Panting and coughing, smiling we walked home. We came home had another round of red bull and cigarettes, I had a bath and head to bed. Following day morning (Friday - Holiday) when I woke up there was a big fuss with my colleagues, some are on the rooftop shouting and some are in the ground floor shouting. First I went up to the roof top to find out that the construction site is back again. It's all there as it was on the night before. I felt like my mouth fell to floor with confusion. I ran to the ground floor to see others are arguing over a video on a phone. The Philippine guy accidentally had videoed the whole thing when he tried to turn on the flashlight. On the video we were inside the construction site and everything looks not like a graveyard but a construction site. We were running and there were no grave stones but JCB's, tractors piles of dirt and even pits but we were running avoiding them. The video was not that clear, over 13 years back there were no night mode and this guy's phone was a Sony Ericsson P990 PDA with a 2MP camera but since his flash light was on we could see bits and pieces. The whole Friday we spent looking at the construction site, no one was at work there as I said Friday was officially a holiday in Qatar. Next day morning we woke up and was waiting for our van to the university, driven by a Sudani person, very calm, good with English and educated though. We started talking about that matter again and this person Mr. Siddque overheard what we were talking and decided to cut in. He said, that land supposed to be an old graveyard but it was long LONG time back which he also have heard stories about that place. But we... Were actually there for several minutes! 👻
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Post by lostineternity99 on Apr 2, 2020 7:07:35 GMT -6
So eerie!
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Post by QueenFoxy on Apr 2, 2020 12:04:46 GMT -6
Too Much Time Frog-gigging I grew up next to a military base. My father, being a retired military veteran, enjoyed all the benefits of being able to travel on and off post anytime he wished. My father was also an avid outdoorsman, and he would spend all of his free time hunting and fishing on the military reservation.
Our house was the first house built in our neighborhood. When it was completed, it was the only house visible for miles in every direction. It was so isolated that my father could sit out on the back porch and call quail up to our house using his abilities as a bird mimicker.
After moving away from this house for a short period of time and returning a few years later, a small neighborhood had emerged around us and the city boundary had moved to include our property. Our house switched to city water and sewage, and the roads in our area became paved. We were still very close (approximately 200-300 yards) to the southern boundary of the military reservation, and during this time, this area of the military reservation permitted free access to anyone wishing to enter through and use the post as a shortcut to get to Interstate 44.
My father and I would often walk into the military reservation at night and go frog hunting around the many ponds scattered around the area. My father would call these ponds "tanks" and would spend his days fishing in them out of a small boat that he would carry in his truck. However, this story is about hunting bullfrogs.
These frogs would grow to an enormous size, and after gathering a sack full of them, we would walk back to the house and give them to my mother who would cut off their legs and fry them for dinner.
The frog-gigging protocol was simple. I would carry the lantern and a large burlap sack and my father would carry a flashlight and a five-foot long stick topped with a small trident of sharp barbs. My father and I would wait for it to get dark and then we would proceed to walk to the nearest pond. The nearest pond was only a twenty-minute walk away (about a mile) and we could hear the croaking of the frogs long before we arrived at the scene.
My father would walk in front, carefully scanning the ground for poisonous snakes, and I would follow behind. After reaching the pond, my father would slowly walk its perimeter with the flashlight pointed on the ground in front. My job was to hold the lantern high and keep an eye out for the glowing pinpricks of light reflecting off of small eyes that would warn us of an approaching water moccasin and to keep an eye out for rattlesnakes.
My father would focus his light on the shore until he caught the eyes of a bullfrog. For some reason, the bullfrogs would "freeze" whenever they looked into the flashlight. My father would then lunge forward with his stick and gig the frog. He would then swing his stick towards me and I would enclose the frog within the burlap sack and pull it off of the stick. This would continue until we made one complete circuit around the pond.
We would never make more than one circle around any one pond, and if we did not have what my father would decide as enough frogs, we would walk to the next pond. On most occasions, one circuit around the pond was usually sufficient and we would walk back to the house. We never went frog-gigging more than two times in any one month and I remember this activity with great fondness.
I remember receiving many visits from kinfolk during the summers of my childhood years. All of my relatives lived in Texas and they shared the same love for hunting and fishing as my father.
On one occasion, my favorite aunt and uncle traveled up to visit us and Dad invited my uncle to go frog-gigging with us. This required a change of protocol. My father would still lead with the stick, but my uncle would follow with the burlap sack and I would bring up the rear holding the lantern.
We made our plans and waited for it to get sufficiently dark. At approximately 9:00 PM we marched out towards the first pond. I anticipated a hearty catch as the pond seemed to be especially noisy this night. After about twenty minutes, we arrived at the pond's edge. Just as we started to edge our away around the pond, we were startled out of our concentration when an extremely bright flash engulfed our area. I remember the flash being so bright that I could clearly make out colors and see with great detail the surrounding area. The flash of light seemed to take no more than three or four seconds before it winked out and left the three of us standing there in stunned silence. For some reason, the area was deathly quiet as even the bullfrogs seemed to have quit their croaking.
The next few words uttered by my father and uncle still reverberate in my mind so many years later: "Ray, I reckon' we should just start headin' back to the house."
"Tom, I reckon you're right."
I did not say a word and turned to follow my father and uncle back to our home. We arrived without incident and as I was getting ready for bed, I noticed from the clock on the wall that it was after three o'clock in the morning!
"Dad, what time do you have?"
"Go to bed, son. We'll talk about it in the morning."
We never did talk about it after that and my father preempted my questions the next morning with the stern admonition to never mention the events of the past night to anybody else upon pain of punishment. I feared my father's belt and I would never bring up this incident again until many years later after my father had died. However, the incident seemed to die with my father as my uncle would not admit to any memory of the incident and he would casually dismiss any of my questions with the look of a man trying to placate the imaginings of an eccentric nephew.
Little did I know at that time that this would not be my family's only brush with the phenomenon of missing time. 👻
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Post by lostineternity99 on Apr 3, 2020 5:37:50 GMT -6
Bright lights and missing time ... definitely eerie
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Post by QueenFoxy on Apr 3, 2020 16:11:49 GMT -6
Yes!! Sounds like an alien abduction.
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Post by QueenFoxy on Apr 3, 2020 16:20:51 GMT -6
The Spirits Of Cold Harbor by Wil1974 Virginia is full of history, especially that of the civil war. One of the most bloody called Cold Harbor. Located in Mechanicsville, Cold Harbor Battlefield is where "one of American history's bloodiest, most lopsided battles" occurred. It was a part of Union General Ulysses S. Grant's Overland Campaign, also known as the Wilderness Campaign. Though the strategic operation included many raids and skirmishes, the Battle at Cold Harbor was particularly disastrous and grisly. Grant himself would later reflect:
"Cold Harbor is, I think, the only battle I ever fought that I would not fight over again under the circumstances. I have always regretted that the last assault at Cold Harbor was ever made."
A priest who was at the battle, Winthrop Phelps, confirms:
"You cannot conceive the horror and awfulness of a battle. I never wish to hear another much less see it. I went out to see this but found myself in such danger I soon fled... Pray for me. I cannot write - am not in a fit state of mind."
June 3rd was an especially devastating day; in under an hour, around 7,000 of Grant's men were slaughtered. On a blood stained diary entry, one Union soldier wrote: "June 3. Cold Harbor. I was killed.
My reenacting unit used to do living history at Cold Harbor very frequently. We were allowed to camp over by the Garthright house and when people would stop by, they'd ask questions about us, Cold Harbor and questions in general about the war.
One particular night about 10 of us had laid down for the evening, it was a full moon, and chilly. I was awoken by the sound of clanking, sort of like the sound of a tin cup banging on a canteen or haversack buckle. I had to use the bathroom anyway so I went to see what I could find. I walked back the gravel path about 40 feet, and the sound got louder and louder. I could then faintly see a campfire, and what seemed to be two reenactors sitting around it. I thought it was odd due to the fact fires aren't allowed on Federal property. I walked closer, I noticed that the two men were talking and were drinking from their tin cups. They were union soldiers, and had their muskets stacked together, both men were sitting on crates.
I walked closer and called out, "hey there". No response... I called out again, "hello"... Both men stopped what they were doing, almost like they were frozen in time, they then turned and looked at me. They stared at me in a strange way, like I have never been looked at before. I then saw something I wish I'd never seen, the men were wax like, white pale skin and their eyes seemed hollow, as if there were no eyes... One of the men stood up and then pointed at me. The other turned and half of his face was shot away, like he'd been hit by a shell and his face exploded! I turned and ran so fast I almost tripped.
I woke my fellow reenactors up and told them they had to come see what I had experienced. They reluctantly came with me and I guided them to the site where I had seen the men, I was rambling like a madman trying to explain the whole story as fast as I could. When we arrived,...nothing. No sign of a fire, men or anything. Most of the guys thought it was a joke and went back to camp. My Sgt. Bill believed me. He said,"I have been coming here for many years and I tell ya, I have seen some strange things too." I reluctantly stayed the night but didn't get a of sleep. The next morning I went to where I saw the two specters and there was nothing there. If you ever go to the Garthright house, walk the path to the left in the visitor area. Maybe you will see two union soldiers still stuck in purgatory... ~ 👻
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