THAT'S IT!
THAT IS WHAT I AM GOING TO BE LOOKING FOR AT THE 1500 SUNDAY!
I HOPE THEY AREN'T ALL GONE BY THEN, CAN'T MAKE IT SATURDAY!
DANG IT! I WANT ONE!
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Ghosts
- Thread starter Dogman
- Start date
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THAT'S IT!
THAT IS WHAT I AM GOING TO BE LOOKING FOR AT THE 1500 SUNDAY!
I HOPE THEY AREN'T ALL GONE BY THEN, CAN'T MAKE IT SATURDAY!
DANG IT! I WANT ONE!
SavageEagle
Grandmaster
- Apr 27, 2008
- 19,568
- 38
All I have to say is if you don't believe, you're a fool. There are spirits, good and evil. There are different types. There are ones that can manipulate objects, there are ones that can possess, there are ones that ressemble a holographic movie doing the same thing over and over and over. I've personally encountered a handful of ghosts and even seen a group of people encanting some sort of spell on a grave in a graveyard about a 1/4mile from Cartersburg Rd on US40. The grave stone even says something along the lines of "It's not over, I shall return..." or something. You can see spirits after 2am in the graveyard in the back. Gladden Farms Apartments in Plainfield has spirits. And I believe they followed me here because my house seems to have two children that like to play hide and seek or peek a boo. Trust me, I wouldn't make this stuff up. I can show you the graveyard, and if you can feel spirits you're more than welcome to assess my house. I'd like to know more myself.
I hate telling this story, but as there's much more weird posts than this, I guess it's OK.
When I was going through basic at Parris Island, I was on fire watch and a person walked out of the head (that's bathroom to you civie folk), opened the gear locker which was always locked with a pad lock , walked in and closed the door, when I got to the hatch, it was still locked.
When I was going through basic at Parris Island, I was on fire watch and a person walked out of the head (that's bathroom to you civie folk), opened the gear locker which was always locked with a pad lock , walked in and closed the door, when I got to the hatch, it was still locked.
The mind is a terrible thing to taste.
I once had an instructor who just quoted the first part:
"A mind is a terrible thing."
Blessings,
B
Crystalship1
Master
So..... let me see if I got this right. If I feel a ghost, I'm welcome to asses in your house?!?!?
When my daughter was born and they brought her to me the next day, I looked at my daughter and saw my twin sister's face - smiling at my daughter. My sister had died at age 11.
Another incident: My aunt told me that after my son was born, she and some other family members were talking about how much my son looked like my father. Later that night, she was awakened by the fishtank light - the fish tank was unplugged.
My son was born on the first anniversary of my father's death.
Yep! I believe. Not so much in "ghosts" , but spirits.
Another incident: My aunt told me that after my son was born, she and some other family members were talking about how much my son looked like my father. Later that night, she was awakened by the fishtank light - the fish tank was unplugged.
My son was born on the first anniversary of my father's death.
Yep! I believe. Not so much in "ghosts" , but spirits.
SavageEagle
Grandmaster
- Apr 27, 2008
- 19,568
- 38
So..... let me see if I got this right. If I feel a ghost, I'm welcome to asses in your house?!?!?
Hey if ya gotta go, ya gotta go! Just flip on the fan first! My kids are bad enough!
Do you carry that in an ankle holster?
When we go on vacation, the wife will plan for us to stay at 3-4 haunted inns or bed and breakfasts. We've had some odd things happen, but no ghosts. One of the weirdest things when we were at the Little Big Horn park and while walking around, I felt we were being watched, but there was no one else around. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up. I asked the wife if she felt that and she said, "No, I'm watching for rattlesnakes." They have posted to stay on path and watch for rattlesnakes. A few months after coming home from that trip, we were talking with a couple of park rangers from there and I had told them my feelings while at the park. They both said it was not uncommon for the park personnel to see indians or cavalrymen on horseback watching them, then disappear. In the bookstore, they would find books thrown around the store in the mornings when they came in for work.
I owned a business with a couple of other folks in the late eighties. It was a commercial communications equipment repair facility. All of our contract work was via shipping - no customers on site. We rented a two level building (walk out on both levels) that had in its previous life been a bar. A very rough bar in an area known as Dixie Lee Junction. It was at the junction of two highways that eventually were overshadowed by parallel routes of Interstate 40 and 75 just 3/4 mile over a hill.
Locals had described the previous bar environment: Billiard tables, kitchen, bar and bathrooms upstairs. Downstairs had a little booth with windows at the entrance. It was rumored to be the spot with the hookers/strippers and illegal gambling.
I know of at least 2 patrons who lost their lives in there.
It was a... busy place, even when you were the sole occupant. Typically all noises would occur when you were alone but not always. We may have ignored the noises when the building was occupied by several of us, since one would assume nothing was amiss.
* Alone in the building, upstairs or downstairs, you could hear the murmured noise of a conversational bar on the opposite level.
* When upstairs alone, you could frequently hear things crashing around downstairs. Investigation would yield everything in its place.
* Downstairs, in a group of three or four of us, we could frequently hear the sound of footsteps as someone would walk across the upper floor - all while it was empty with a locked front door.
* As above, except more infrequently one could hear the bounce of a billiard ball on the floor and the sound of it rolling along the wood until it "hit" the wall. (No balls or table there when we were occupants.)
These instances weren't observed by just one or two people. At least 20 - 30 people heard this stuff during the 5 years we were there. Many, many folks insisted they WOULD NOT be in the building alone, they were so freaked out by the "bar noises."
One of my partners sometimes brought his dog into work. We all loved that dog. He should have been named "mooch" because of his rotating begging at lunchtime. Instead, he was bestowed with the much more inventive title: Dog. My coworker had to be on the road to visit a client early. He arrived before the rest of us and left Dog in his office. Now Dog was a mellow dog. Slow and very easy going. Dog leapt through a glass window and was waiting outside when we arrived. He was very hesitant about coming inside again. Something made him want to get out badly. I would have thought nothing of it if not for the other stuff.
One of the best stories was from one of my employees. He took in charge of the contract logistical scheduling. He was "old." 55? Now that I'm just months shy of 40, he doesn't seem so old anymore. We had offices side by side. He was always the early riser and was the first one into the building, leaving it locked up until the other staff of 20-25 arrived.
He heard my office door open, then shut. The sound of my footsteps. He heard the casters of my chair move around as I settled down at my desk. Thinking it was odd that I hadn't said Hello, he came over for a morning cup of coffee.
Opening the door to my office, it was dark and empty. The building was still locked. He let himself out of the building, locked back up and waited in his car for others to arrive.
When we first occupied the building, there were many early evenings I spent "clearing" the building with a Beretta, so sure was I that there were intruders inside. I eventually knew to expect the noises and stopped looking. Even 'til the end, it made every hair on my body stand up.
The building is gone now. It has been replaced by a convenient store. If I ever happen to see one of my old partners or coworkers, the conversation always returns to how "busy" that building was...
I don't "believe in ghosts." I do believe there may be some residual... I don't know, stuff. Residuals that mimic either repetitive actions from the near past or emotionally charged events. Call it leftover electromagnetics or an abundance of pheromones. Heck, I don't know. Something happens that is imminently explainable by science. Maybe science we don't understand yet.
My wife and I have been married for 14 years. Twice, when relocating to new jobs/cities, we've been looking at houses that significantly bothered me. Both of them were empty lots when we looked for them a year or two after settling in to the city. One burned, I'm not sure about the other. One of the two, I found the master bedroom really gave me the willies. Every hair on end, difficult to breath. Almost an anxiety attack to get out.
My wife found out from a coworker that the house with the bedroom I found so weird, was a crime scene a couple of months before. The divorced Mom lived there with a young daughter. Apparently, she called the police on some loud late teens / early twenties kids down the street. Three of them later broke in and raped her in that bedroom. She was alive and doing well in another city, but something about that bedroom (with no knowledge of the event) freaked me out badly. No ghost but residual?
Heck, I don't know. If you tell me you SAW a ghost, I would be skeptical since I've no firsthand experience. Tell me you heard some weird stuff, I've got an open mind now.
Locals had described the previous bar environment: Billiard tables, kitchen, bar and bathrooms upstairs. Downstairs had a little booth with windows at the entrance. It was rumored to be the spot with the hookers/strippers and illegal gambling.
I know of at least 2 patrons who lost their lives in there.
It was a... busy place, even when you were the sole occupant. Typically all noises would occur when you were alone but not always. We may have ignored the noises when the building was occupied by several of us, since one would assume nothing was amiss.
* Alone in the building, upstairs or downstairs, you could hear the murmured noise of a conversational bar on the opposite level.
* When upstairs alone, you could frequently hear things crashing around downstairs. Investigation would yield everything in its place.
* Downstairs, in a group of three or four of us, we could frequently hear the sound of footsteps as someone would walk across the upper floor - all while it was empty with a locked front door.
* As above, except more infrequently one could hear the bounce of a billiard ball on the floor and the sound of it rolling along the wood until it "hit" the wall. (No balls or table there when we were occupants.)
These instances weren't observed by just one or two people. At least 20 - 30 people heard this stuff during the 5 years we were there. Many, many folks insisted they WOULD NOT be in the building alone, they were so freaked out by the "bar noises."
One of my partners sometimes brought his dog into work. We all loved that dog. He should have been named "mooch" because of his rotating begging at lunchtime. Instead, he was bestowed with the much more inventive title: Dog. My coworker had to be on the road to visit a client early. He arrived before the rest of us and left Dog in his office. Now Dog was a mellow dog. Slow and very easy going. Dog leapt through a glass window and was waiting outside when we arrived. He was very hesitant about coming inside again. Something made him want to get out badly. I would have thought nothing of it if not for the other stuff.
One of the best stories was from one of my employees. He took in charge of the contract logistical scheduling. He was "old." 55? Now that I'm just months shy of 40, he doesn't seem so old anymore. We had offices side by side. He was always the early riser and was the first one into the building, leaving it locked up until the other staff of 20-25 arrived.
He heard my office door open, then shut. The sound of my footsteps. He heard the casters of my chair move around as I settled down at my desk. Thinking it was odd that I hadn't said Hello, he came over for a morning cup of coffee.
Opening the door to my office, it was dark and empty. The building was still locked. He let himself out of the building, locked back up and waited in his car for others to arrive.
When we first occupied the building, there were many early evenings I spent "clearing" the building with a Beretta, so sure was I that there were intruders inside. I eventually knew to expect the noises and stopped looking. Even 'til the end, it made every hair on my body stand up.
The building is gone now. It has been replaced by a convenient store. If I ever happen to see one of my old partners or coworkers, the conversation always returns to how "busy" that building was...
I don't "believe in ghosts." I do believe there may be some residual... I don't know, stuff. Residuals that mimic either repetitive actions from the near past or emotionally charged events. Call it leftover electromagnetics or an abundance of pheromones. Heck, I don't know. Something happens that is imminently explainable by science. Maybe science we don't understand yet.
My wife and I have been married for 14 years. Twice, when relocating to new jobs/cities, we've been looking at houses that significantly bothered me. Both of them were empty lots when we looked for them a year or two after settling in to the city. One burned, I'm not sure about the other. One of the two, I found the master bedroom really gave me the willies. Every hair on end, difficult to breath. Almost an anxiety attack to get out.
My wife found out from a coworker that the house with the bedroom I found so weird, was a crime scene a couple of months before. The divorced Mom lived there with a young daughter. Apparently, she called the police on some loud late teens / early twenties kids down the street. Three of them later broke in and raped her in that bedroom. She was alive and doing well in another city, but something about that bedroom (with no knowledge of the event) freaked me out badly. No ghost but residual?
Heck, I don't know. If you tell me you SAW a ghost, I would be skeptical since I've no firsthand experience. Tell me you heard some weird stuff, I've got an open mind now.
Damn, I'm late to this thread.
I thought it was going to be about the movie GHOST with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze. I'm the president of the movie's fan club and hoped to find other fans here
Now I'm just disappointed
I thought it was going to be about the movie GHOST with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze. I'm the president of the movie's fan club and hoped to find other fans here
Now I'm just disappointed
jontheturboguy
Master
Im a little reluctant to tell my stories I have of when I lived in the haunted house as a kid....
Oh heck go ahead and tell us!
Crystalship1
Master
Horny female ghosts?!?!?!?
Talk about "ghosts"! My three little flag people turned into two with a 'juvinal' - 'sticking tongue out one when it showed up
Last edited:
Dogman, have you ever stayed in Atlanta, GA? That is a GREAT place to have the hair stand on the back of your neck. 
In 2004, my co-leader and I took our Girl Scout troop to visit Savannah for a week (the Juliette Gordon Low house is there). We wanted to make it educational, but fun, so we signed up for a few ghost tours because it's supposed to be the most haunted city in America. In the fourteen hour drive down, I had mentioned to the girls that I could sometimes feel "presences" in an area. I wasn't ready to admit they were "ghosts" per se, but I could definitely sense personalities and moods that were not coming from the people I was with (it's only particularly spooky when I'm alone, usually). I spent the rest of the week hearing, "Hey Pam, do you feel any presenceseses?"
The first tour we took we were a bit disappointed. It was a "Pirate Walk," but rather than hear really interesting pirate stories, we heard more about the different types of pirates from a woman who clearly has no concept of what a good walking shoe is (she wore very thin high heel shoes and wobbled when she walked). But we ended at the Pirate House for dinner. We were in a back corner of the restaurant, and the nearest restroom was near the kitchens. The girls asked if I felt anything, so I commented that I felt like there was an older gentleman standing just outside the restroom. Even though I assured them he never entered the restroom, our buddy system suddenly turned into groups of three. It amused me.
By the next morning, I realized just how paranoid this had made the girls, and spent the better part of the day telling them I had made it up just to spook them (at the strong encouragement of my co-leader). By the afternoon I finally had them convinced, and I had nearly convinced myself of it. THEN we took our second ghost tour.
This one was actually at dusk and involved walking around the city. (The guy did an EXCELLENT job explaining the history of the city as he introduced us to the most popular haunted spots, btw.) Anywho, as we're waiting for our guide to show up, we notice a gaggle of second grade Scouts listening to their tour guide. She had asked them if they had eaten at the Pirate House, and when they responded affirmatively, if they had felt any ghosts while they were there.
Apparently, the Pirate House is the most haunted spot in the city. It's where most of the men taken for press gangs were captured, and if they refused, they were blindfolded and left in the tunnels under the old house there. If they weren't killed outright, many died after several days of starvation and no water, lost in the tunnels. And, one of the more well-known seamen who stopped at the pub frequently was murdered in a back corner of the house -- near where the kitchens are now, right outside the current location of the women's restroom. The guide then went on to describe, almost to the precise detail, the man I had briefly described to the girls the night before. I nearly jumped out of my skin because she included details I hadn't mentioned to the girls, and it was weird to hear them repeated back to me. Even my skeptical co-leader looked at me a little strangely.
Needless to say, the girls paid very careful attention to my reactions to the stories as our tour guide walked us through the city that night.
In 2004, my co-leader and I took our Girl Scout troop to visit Savannah for a week (the Juliette Gordon Low house is there). We wanted to make it educational, but fun, so we signed up for a few ghost tours because it's supposed to be the most haunted city in America. In the fourteen hour drive down, I had mentioned to the girls that I could sometimes feel "presences" in an area. I wasn't ready to admit they were "ghosts" per se, but I could definitely sense personalities and moods that were not coming from the people I was with (it's only particularly spooky when I'm alone, usually). I spent the rest of the week hearing, "Hey Pam, do you feel any presenceseses?"
The first tour we took we were a bit disappointed. It was a "Pirate Walk," but rather than hear really interesting pirate stories, we heard more about the different types of pirates from a woman who clearly has no concept of what a good walking shoe is (she wore very thin high heel shoes and wobbled when she walked). But we ended at the Pirate House for dinner. We were in a back corner of the restaurant, and the nearest restroom was near the kitchens. The girls asked if I felt anything, so I commented that I felt like there was an older gentleman standing just outside the restroom. Even though I assured them he never entered the restroom, our buddy system suddenly turned into groups of three. It amused me.
By the next morning, I realized just how paranoid this had made the girls, and spent the better part of the day telling them I had made it up just to spook them (at the strong encouragement of my co-leader). By the afternoon I finally had them convinced, and I had nearly convinced myself of it. THEN we took our second ghost tour.
This one was actually at dusk and involved walking around the city. (The guy did an EXCELLENT job explaining the history of the city as he introduced us to the most popular haunted spots, btw.) Anywho, as we're waiting for our guide to show up, we notice a gaggle of second grade Scouts listening to their tour guide. She had asked them if they had eaten at the Pirate House, and when they responded affirmatively, if they had felt any ghosts while they were there.
Apparently, the Pirate House is the most haunted spot in the city. It's where most of the men taken for press gangs were captured, and if they refused, they were blindfolded and left in the tunnels under the old house there. If they weren't killed outright, many died after several days of starvation and no water, lost in the tunnels. And, one of the more well-known seamen who stopped at the pub frequently was murdered in a back corner of the house -- near where the kitchens are now, right outside the current location of the women's restroom. The guide then went on to describe, almost to the precise detail, the man I had briefly described to the girls the night before. I nearly jumped out of my skin because she included details I hadn't mentioned to the girls, and it was weird to hear them repeated back to me. Even my skeptical co-leader looked at me a little strangely.
Needless to say, the girls paid very careful attention to my reactions to the stories as our tour guide walked us through the city that night.
SavageEagle
Grandmaster
- Apr 27, 2008
- 19,568
- 38
I know of one other spot here in Indy that's haunted. I used to know two but the airport torn down the other.
The airport owns this house, but it's known as the dog slaughter house. The Horace House, just off Ronald Regean Parkway. Yes I misspelled it cause I'm too tired to look it up! I had the chance to enter the house one day with two of my friends back when I was more mischevious a few years ago. We entered in the basement and right away the feeling of 'bad' swept through us. there was four rooms one with a bolier and another had a giant mound of dirt. the closer you got to the mound, the more your hair stood up and the colder it got. We decided to brave on upstairs. the next two floors were covered in what looked like petrified wood, but was actually, on closer inspection, hardened dog droppings. I'm not talking a few piles here and there, I'm talking the floor had been carpeted in 50-60 year old crap and debris. The house was actually quite amazing. Had it been cleaned up and in it's hay-day, it would have been a beautiful home. The first floor was a bit spooly, but no signs of spirits. As we headed up the narrow creaky stairs, the chill started to set in. Dog crap everywhere. By the time I reached the second floor i could see my own breath. There were many amazing things like old books, newspapers, and some old chests, but we never had the chance to check them out. When we entered the first bedroom we heard voices downstairs like someone arguing lightly. Then a low growl. Then another. We started out of the hallway to the stairs when we heard what sounded like a loud SLAM. We ran down the stairs expecting to see the Airport Police with a K-9 unit but there was nothing. Just as we were discussing leaving there was a loud slap and then another growl. This time directly behind us. We turned to see some papers stirring and decided to go. The front door was rigged with an alarm but our friend opened it before we could warn him. Needless to say we hauled ass outta there, but it's also safe to say that house is evil. It's full of it. Everytime I drove by after that I could feel it just driving by. Like some reminder to stay away. Not that I needed that since they put up an 8ft fence and cameras.... Now the road is a dead end and full of pot holes, but the house is a protected historical landmark and can't be torn down. Apparently it's the oldest standing house in Hendricks County. If you get a chance one day, I suggest tracking it down and checking it out. There's a sign that explains some history on it. Just not the dog slaughter part. Go figure...
The airport owns this house, but it's known as the dog slaughter house. The Horace House, just off Ronald Regean Parkway. Yes I misspelled it cause I'm too tired to look it up! I had the chance to enter the house one day with two of my friends back when I was more mischevious a few years ago. We entered in the basement and right away the feeling of 'bad' swept through us. there was four rooms one with a bolier and another had a giant mound of dirt. the closer you got to the mound, the more your hair stood up and the colder it got. We decided to brave on upstairs. the next two floors were covered in what looked like petrified wood, but was actually, on closer inspection, hardened dog droppings. I'm not talking a few piles here and there, I'm talking the floor had been carpeted in 50-60 year old crap and debris. The house was actually quite amazing. Had it been cleaned up and in it's hay-day, it would have been a beautiful home. The first floor was a bit spooly, but no signs of spirits. As we headed up the narrow creaky stairs, the chill started to set in. Dog crap everywhere. By the time I reached the second floor i could see my own breath. There were many amazing things like old books, newspapers, and some old chests, but we never had the chance to check them out. When we entered the first bedroom we heard voices downstairs like someone arguing lightly. Then a low growl. Then another. We started out of the hallway to the stairs when we heard what sounded like a loud SLAM. We ran down the stairs expecting to see the Airport Police with a K-9 unit but there was nothing. Just as we were discussing leaving there was a loud slap and then another growl. This time directly behind us. We turned to see some papers stirring and decided to go. The front door was rigged with an alarm but our friend opened it before we could warn him. Needless to say we hauled ass outta there, but it's also safe to say that house is evil. It's full of it. Everytime I drove by after that I could feel it just driving by. Like some reminder to stay away. Not that I needed that since they put up an 8ft fence and cameras.... Now the road is a dead end and full of pot holes, but the house is a protected historical landmark and can't be torn down. Apparently it's the oldest standing house in Hendricks County. If you get a chance one day, I suggest tracking it down and checking it out. There's a sign that explains some history on it. Just not the dog slaughter part. Go figure...
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