UNCLE JERRY'S TALE - VISITOR SUBMISSION
ALISON'S TALE - VISITOR SUBMISSION
SHARON'S TALE - LINK TO HER SITE
PROTECTIVE SPIRITS FROM FLIGHT 401
THE TRAGIC STORY OF THE GREAT EASTERN
PROTECTIVE SPIRITS FROM FLIGHT 401
On December 29, 1972, Eastern Airlines Flight 401 crashed into the Florida Everglades due to design flaws in the Lockheed Tri-Star. Many passengers and all of the flight crew were killed, including Captain Bob Loft and Second Officer Don Repo. This tragic event had been foretold by a stewardess who had a premonition a couple of weeks earlier; she had not been on the flight.
The faults in the controls were quickly fixed on other Tri-Star’s. However, according to the tale, some of the undamaged parts of Flight 401 were recycled into other aircraft.
Since then, Bob Loft and Don Repo have been seen many times by passengers and flight personnel alike. On one flight, a passenger sat beside a flight officer who looked ill. Several people later saw the man disappear. He was later identified as Repo. On another flight, Loft was recognized by a vice-president of Eastern Airlines, only to disappear. On yet another flight, an engineer came face to face with Repo, who was doing the pre-flight check. One captain claims that the ghost of Repo told him: "There will never be another crash (of a TriStar)… we will not let it happen."
Source: Ghost Sightings, Barnes & Noble, 1996.
THE TRAGIC STORY OF THE GREAT EASTERN
Five times larger than any other ship of 1859, the Great Eastern suffered many calamities. Eleven men (workmen and crewmen) were dead by its first voyage. The luxury liner never earned its cost, and in 1865, was converted for laying transoceanic cable. It was retired in 1887 to a Liverpool scrap yard.
Throughout its brief career, rappings and hammerings were heard in the bowels of the ship. During its construction, a riveter had disappeared and was believed to have been accidentally sealed between the ship’s double hull. It was his ghost that was rumored to cause these strange sounds.
In 1889, scrap-yard workers, while tearing the ship down, found a skeleton entombed within the hull, along with a bag of rusty tools.
Source: Hauntings, Barnes & Noble, 1997.
According to legend, Patrick, Third Earl of Strathmore, was playing cards with the Earl of Crawford late one Saturday night in Glamis Castle. A servant came in to remind the earls that the Sabbath was soon upon them. Patrick replied that he would continue to play, and that the Devil himself could join if he pleased. On the stroke of midnight, the Devil appeared and told the two earls that they had forfeited their souls and would be damned to gamble in that room until the Judgment Day. Since then, it is said that the two earls can be heard at night, rattling dice, stamping and swearing.
I find the story above of particular interest because of the obvious improbability of the event. 17th century villagers may have believed that the Devil would make such a visit, but in the 21st century, I’m sure many folks have played cards into Sunday morning, and have suffered nothing more than a hangover. So if these noises are indeed heard, we might assume one of two things: either the legend was invented to explain the strange noises, or that this is an example of faith manifestation (see Theories and Comments), that though the sounds are real, the ghosts are not.
Source: Ghost Sightings, Barnes & Noble, 1996.
Long before Nathaniel Hawthorne became a household name, he was in the daily habit of visiting the Atheneum Library, where he would quietly read and write for several hours. Another common visitor to the library was a clergyman named Rev. Doctor Harris, who could be seen daily reading the Boston Post by the fire. Hawthorne was surprised one day, when he discovered that the clergyman had died a few weeks prior.
On subsequent visits to the library, Hawthorne continued to find Harris in his usual place by the fire, reading his Boston Post. Being both timid to the circumstances, and being in a place where conversation was strictly forbidden, Hawthorne made no effort to speak to the ghost. But his observation of the dead man continued for weeks. Eventually, the Harris stopped showing up in this home away from home.
Source: Ghost Sightings, Barnes & Noble, 1996.
December 7, 1918, Lieutenant David M'Connel of the RAF set off on a routine flight after stopping in on his room-mate, Lieutenant Larkin. "I expect to get back in time for tea. Cheerio," he told his companion. Running into fog around Doncaster, he landed his Camel, and asked instructions of his commander, who told him to use his discretion. He chose to continue his mission. An unfortunate choice, as he crashed near Tadcaster at 3:25 and died on impact.
At the time of the crash, Larkin was reading in his room. He heard someone approach, and turned to find David M'Connel standing at the door. David was his usual cheery self, nothing amiss that his room-mate could detect, except that the Lieutenant had made outstanding time. "Hello, back already?" he asked, to which David replied, "Yes, got there all right, had a good trip. Well, cheerio." With that, the latter man left, presumably to change out of his flight uniform.
Larkin was unaware of the death of his friend until hours later.
Source: Ghost Sightings, Barnes & Noble, 1996.
THE WINCHESTER CURSE?
Sarah Winchester, the daughter-in-law of the inventor of the Winchester rifle and presumably his closest living relative, came to believe she was the victim of a curse. After the death of her husband, Sarah was told by a Boston medium that she would be haunted by the thousands of spirits of those killed by the rifles. She was told that her only recourse was to use the millions she would inherit to buy a house and constantly expand it. By doing so, she would attract a better class of ghost, which would protect her, and confound the simpler, nastier sort of spirit who would not be able to find its way around.
Sarah bought an eight room farmhouse in San Jose, where construction continued for thirty-nine years until her death. By 1922, the year she died, the house had expanded to 160 rooms over six acres. Included were such oddities as a staircase which led to nowhere, and a door which opened upon a two story drop.
I've heard this story from several sources, and I've yet to hear anything to substantiate that this was an actual haunting, or even to suggest that Sarah Winchester had any good reason to believe the medium. Perhaps and probably so, Sarah was out of her mind. But it remains an interesting story, ghosts or no ghosts.
Source: Hauntings, Barnes & Noble, 1997
Where do I start? I know that if I choose to ignore the fact that spirits are about, they can’t get to me. I don’t know why. Its like some sort of door in my brain is shut for the time being, but you can’t shut it forever. You try to, well I do anyway.
They don’t talk to me and I don’t see them as real people at all. I just sense them and see lights or shadows. The worst time is at night or when you’re on your own because then your brain needs something to do. I can’t just relax and you know deep inside that thinking will make you see things out of the corner of your eyes or sense something near you! But trying not to think about it is in a sense thinking about it and then you can get all stressed out!
I presume the character in the book can see them as human form and can probably hear them too. I find most authors do that to their main characters. To believe in spirits, you have to have some belief in reincarnation to accept that there is something inside us all that does live on past our bodily demise.
Now I’ll tell you about 2 of my encounters with ghosts...here goes.
I was babysitting at my aunt’s house and there had been rumors that there was a shadow ghost of a big strapping man hanging around the stairs...I didn’t believe this and thought it was there to wind me up but then I realized they really believed this stuff!
I decided in my wisdom (not) that I would say that I’d seen the ghost too, just so I didn’t feel left out, but in my head I was actually starting to believe my aunt’s stories just from the look of honesty in her face.
We went up to bed as usual, me sharing with my aunt as she was a single mum and it was freezing on the sofa, and just as we were settling down we heard the piano playing. (I’ve since been told that this was indeed a common occurrence that happened most nights.) The piano then stopped and we could actually hear what seemed to be kids singing. (This is one of the rare occasions that I've heard "ghosts.") It was just like in the corny horror films, I swear to God it was, and that alone made it almost surreal. Then I was convinced my aunt had set me up, but when I turned to look at her, I realized that that was not the case. She was petrified because she knew what was coming next: the door shot open, not slowly and squeaky like in the films but fast and furious, and I half expected it to fall flat on the floor. Then the bed sheets were being pulled off us really, really hard with real strength that you don’t expect of something you can’t see. We held on to the sheets for fear of being uncovered in the room with this "thing", then it all stopped as soon as it had started. The whole event must have lasted no more than half an hour, but it seemed like hours to me, and when we were sure it had stopped, we went to see if the kids were still asleep. And they were even though they were in the next room and we were screaming like babies.
Needless to say I didn’t baby-sit alone in that house again!
The second "ghost" encounter was as follows...
I moved into a new house with my hubby and son, and from the start things were always going missing (cutlery, etc.) to then appear only minutes later. This went on for about six months, then it became bigger items like clothes when you needed them, and then they are there when you no longer needed them. I started to feel like it was my fault. I wasn't looking properly in the first place, I thought, but after about 18 months, I knew it wasn't me because if I couldn't find something I'd look and look until I was satisfied I could look no more. Then I'd shut the drawer and wait a minute and then open it again only to find the thing I was looking for in the first place. Then one day the radio switched stations by itself, then the TV would turn up or down by itself. Then I realized that it must be a ghost, and I knew it was a little kid who was a little bit naughty but didn’t mean any harm. I just knew this!
One day though he went too far and started messing with the vacuum, I don’t know why he chose the vacuum but he did and he would pull the wires out and we'd put them back only for him to do it again even if I hadn’t used the thing! Then one day he just swapped the wires about. I don’t know how but he did. My hubby put the wires back the night before and checked that it was working, and it was. But the next day it wouldn’t come on and I turned it straight off, knowing that something was wrong. And hubby fixed it again, blaming the bloody milkman rather that admitting that something strange was happening.
After this latest episode of happenings I decided enough was enough, and when hubby went out to work I stood downstairs and shouted at the "ghost." I really, really told it off as if it were a little kid (I was about to find out it was) and told it to go to where it should be and said that it was getting dangerous and asked for another spirit to come and fetch it! This sounds ridiculous but I swear to God I did.
A few days later, I was sitting on the loo at the top of the stairs, with the bathroom door open so I could hear if the phone rung or the door knocked. And at the bottom of the stairs I saw a little boy of about 7 or 8 years of age. He looked totally real as you or me but to his right hand side (as I was looking at him) the banister came to his shoulder but there was no arm. The way he was standing suggested that his left arm should have been somehow holding onto the banister for support but it wasn’t there. Then the boy who I didn’t recognize as one of my dead relatives waved at me goodbye and smiled the most wonderful and invigorating and totally uplifting smile I have ever, ever seen and felt in my whole life. I felt the smile, not just saw it and I knew that boy loved me for telling him to go and asking some other spirit to help him...I just knew! And then he was gone and I was crying and shaking and he still visited once a year up until about 4 years later when he left for good and I have to say I was sorry when he went.
I promise you that what I've said is true, I don’t tell many for fear of ridicule.
Source: "Alison", March, 2001
This one comes from my own Uncle Jerry, in his own words, about my grandfather:
This story I heard many times from (Dad), and it never changed. Does that make it true, I dont know. A lot of stranger things happened in the life of Dad.
Mom and Dad had a bakery or donut business in their basement in Ohio. Dad said one morning shortly after Lois was killed, he was in the basment working. Lois's dog was lying at the foot of the stairs. Dad said he noticed that morning a light at the top of the stairs, yet it was not daylight outside. The light came down the stairs, stopping beside the dog. To him it seemed the light had stooped down and was petting the dog. The light turned and went back up the stairs and was gone. Dad said he went over to the dog and the dog was dead. He believed that Lois had came back after her dog.
Was this his minds way of coping with the death of a daughter, or had Lois actually came after her dog?
Source: Uncle Jerry, April, 2005