Ghosts

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Ghosts are a tricky topic. Some people don't believe in them, and some people do believe in them. The unbelievers say there is no proof. The believers say they have seen and heard things---but the unbelievers say they hallucinate, etc. At this point it seems that ghosts can neither be proved nor disproved. But for those who have seen or heard ghosts, perhaps that is proof---however the proof cannot convince others because the paranormal event didn't happen to them. Like religion, it is about belief.

I can say that I believe in things that cannot be explained by science. I along with others with me have seen and heard things that cannot be explained by scientific means. Just as ball lightning was once a topic of the paranormal, it has now worked its way into proven science---perhaps the same thing will someday happen with what we call ghosts.

Perhaps the energy of the human life does continue after death.

Two nights ago, I did what I always do---my routine that I do not alter. I get my old faded-label water bottle off my nightstand and take it to the bathroom. I use what water is left in it to take my Coumadin. Then I fill it up to the top and screw the lid on. I place it on the front of the bathroom sink and I continue getting ready for bed. Then, just before getting into bed, I will get the water bottle and bring it into my bedroom and place it on my nightstand. I went in to get the water bottle off the sink---and it was gone. I searched everywhere and no bottle. It is still missing. There is no logical explanation for this. All I did was fill the bottle up and go to the bedroom less than three feet away, then go back to get the bottle---it was gone. Many things like this have happened in my home.

I've had a handful of personal experiences in the house I currently live in, and so have the rest of my family and my brother's girlfriend when she was over one time, as well. It's kind of weird, but only unnerving when it happens in the middle of the night or when you're totally alone in some part of the house when something happens there.

paul mccartney, [partial impetus for writing "fool on the hill"] was on a hill overlooking london one day, walking with his dog martha, when he encountered a man dressed in a business suit up walking about, and he engaged the man in conversation, then turned around for a bit to look after martha, and when he turned back around the man was completely gone- it was just a second or two, and the man could not have run off out of eyesight that quickly, and it was a bare hill and there was no place for him to hide.

When I was sleeping, the night leading to today, I woke up very suddenly - not from a nightmare; just woke up. My door was a little open, with light coming in from outside of the room (as all lightbulbs have burned in the room, and I need at least a bit of light in it to find my way around in it), so when I looked beside the bed, I could see a vertical, very transparent, whitish shape of no real form. I very quickly got up sitting in the bed, quickly looked at it closer, and it was now moving upwards, towards the ceiling, as if leaving. It looked like lots of dusty cobweb strings hanging beside one another, and I waved my hand on it, but it just went through. The shape then quickly continued upwards, mostly disappearing. I did NOT feel alone, and it was so weird that I rushed out of bed, and out of the room, startled. Then I just decided to go back to bed, though, to keep sleeping in the dark. I always have to follow the rule of not letting anything paranormal bother me. Maybe it was something good, even, though, even if it just shocked me, then. I definitely don't use to hallucinate, when I wake up, and it was not a strange mental state, either, as I felt entirely normal and was very awake, when I woke up. It definitely was paranormal (maybe not a ghost, though).

what else could it have been? when my father passed, the hospice nurses and my older sister all witnessed the same thing- a filmy mist rising from his body, floating around the ceiling for a few seconds before disappearing. for a few days after his passing, there were unusual communal dreams that both me and my [late] mother experienced, involving him calling our names. when my mother passed 2 years later, for a few days there were numerous quasi-poltergeist incidents in the house involving loud banging and creaking sounds in the walls and basement floor/ceiling.

Lol! I misread: "ghost Hitler" and wondered for a moment - "how does he know it's the ghost of no one else than Hitler himself?"

I think in a way it would be neat to stay at a haunted hotel. Has anyone stayed at one?

I don't believe in white-clad beings swooping around and saying "BOO!!", but I do believe that there is part of spiritual life that we don't understand, and maybe I could call it ghosts. I've been approached in a way, by people who are no longer living on earth. It's hard to explain. I can't rule out the possibility that it is in my mind, any more than to rule out that it was in fact. I wouldn't testify in court either way, but I would guarantee and place my life as a wager, that there are things we don't know.

As far as haunted buildings; I think that could be reasonable with my take on things. Afraid? No. Not as long as my intentions are good, in being in that building. But if I were in a building for illicit reasons, I'd be terrified of whatever spirits or ghosts may lie within.

Charles

What about a ghost of a dog, cat?

The Haunted Shelter

It was originally a home for unwed teenaged mothers, back in the day when such girls were sent off to avoid the public shame and humiliation. It closed down in the mid-1960s, due to the more relaxed standards of morality of the day, and was put up for sale a few years later. No buyers were willing to meet the selling price, until rumors of a haunting became known. Ghostly apparitions, strange lights, weird sounds ... the usual.

Legend had it that one young girl from a well-to-do family died there while giving birth, and that her ghost still wandered the halls looking for her child (who was sent off for adoption). Of course, this generated more interest in the property.

One buyer was willing to meet the selling price, but was concerned that the place was haunted, so he asked me if I would check it out. A quick check of the facilities records showed no deaths, although there were numerous adoptions. I offered to break in and spend a night in the place.

(Now you know one of the ways I used to make a living.)

During the night, I tracked down some of the noises to a few concealed speakers, and later traced the wiring to the basement. Behind the old coal bin was a small room with a tape recorder, an amplifier, a switchboard, and a car battery. The recorder was wired to play back the "ghostly" noises on its cassette. The switchboard controlled which speakers the sounds came out of and which lights were lit.

I took photos and showed them to the buyer, who took them to the seller, who dropped the sales price in exchange for the buyer's silence. The buyer paid me half of the difference, and we parted ways. I was to learn later that the property changed hands a few more times, and eventually became the site of a nationally-known chain motel.

The Ghost Camera

I was working in my cousin's New Age shop, programming her PC to run astrology, numerology, and tarot routines for phone-in readings, when the woman walked in. She moved across the floor like a cool mountain stream, her eyes shown like blue lanterns, and her voice flowed sweetly like warm southern molasses ... but I digress.

She sat for a reading with my cousin, and seemed satisfied with the results. Then my cousin asked me if I would speak with her.

(Speak? I could barely make eye contact!)

The woman had a camera; one of those instant cameras made back in the sixties. The camera's shutter would not work. Would I please be so kind as to have a little look-see and maybe make it work? She would be ever so grateful...

I mumbled something about giving it a try, and she smiled, patted my arm, and wove her way out of the shop. My cousin thumped the back of my head and laughingly told me to get back to work. At the end of my shift, I took the camera home. Upon examination, I determined that the shutter mechanism needed cleaning and that the bellows assembly had become cracked in several places. I cleaned the shutter and replaced the bellows with one from another camera with a cracked case. A few adjustments later, and the camera was good as new.

The next day, I dropped the camera off at my cousin's and went on to my other job, where I got a call a few hours later from my cousin, who told me to get down there right away. When I got there, my cousin told me that the camera's owner had complained that I had somehow "drained its magic". It seems that before I fixed it, the camera was able to take pictures of "Ghost Lights" - orbs and streaks of lights that were allegedly evidence of ghostly presences.

I explained to my cousin that these were the result of light leaking onto the film through the old, cracked bellows assembly. My cousin didn't care because the woman was an old friend with lots of influence (e.g., monetary wealth), and that if I didn't restore the camera to its former state, her friend would no longer come around for her weekly reading.

So, with careful application of a sewing needle and a razor blade, I was able to approximate the condition of the old bellows assembly.

The next day, the woman was there at the shop. She thanked me profusely for making her "Ghost Camera" work better than ever before - she was capturing more "Ghost Lights" than ever before, and some of them seem to actually reveal images of the Other Side.

(Look up how a pinhole camera works.)

She handed me a Franklin, kissed me on the cheek, and left the shop. Of course, I had to split the money with my cousin, but that's the last I ever saw of The Lady With The Ghost Camera.

I was washing my tripod in the shower, a couple hours ago, and now I suddenly started hearing heavy sounds of dripping water from, I assumed, me not having closed the tap, properly (even though I was sure I had done it), and it annoyed the hell out of me. So I went to close it, but there was no water dripping from anywhere! Not even from my tripod. Yet I stood there and heard the loud dripping sound, towards the bathtub (I've heard that very sound, many times before). And just when I realized that nothing was dripping from anywhere, it abruptly stopped.

There was one time when I had a dream about a Routemaster bus that had the turquoise texture and appearance of a ghost and it was right outside my apartment window. That was 5 years ago this summer.

I don't know if there are ghosts out there or not. I'm open to the possibility that there might be ghosts out there. I don't really believe in ghosts but I don't not believe as well.

I thought I saw ghosts often when I was younger. Nobody else saw them and I mostly stopped seeing ghosts after I turned to my religion A few years after that I thought I saw a strange doll on my bed. I looked at it for about fifteen seconds, then looked away. When I looked back it was gone.