When I was eleven, my family moved to a larger home that was built just before the Civil War. It was in a small Missouri town. At school the kids and teachers would say how the house was haunted and ask how we could stand living in it.
We would often hear the footsteps on the stairs, and the sound of humming. My mom said that she came into the kitchen one morning and caught a glimpse of a very large lady who was dressed like a housekeeper. She was cleaning the floor and humming.
My dad was told that there had been slaves on the property and had found the remnants of slave houses. I had had a bicycle wreck and had a concussion. My mom was sitting up with me holding a washcloth on my forehead and praying with her eyes closed when she felt a large warm hand cover hers. She looked up and there was the slave lady she had seen before. She smiled at mom and made a motion to her that meant “shoo”. For some reason, mom wasn’t afraid and felt that I would be okay with her, so she went to bed. The next morning, I was sore and blurry-eyed, but otherwise fine.
I would love to go back and visit that house again. I hope whoever lives there now has had such a happy experience of their time there. It really was a house where history came alive.
Cliff Davis, Virginia
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