My Haunted Life Too

TRUE GHOST STORIES

Poltergeist

22 May 2015 | May 2015

As the new Poltergeist movie opens this weekend, it reminded me of my own experiences…. When I was eleven, we moved. It was a good move to be honest from a terraced three up, two down in west Hull to a rather nice semi-detached outside of Hull. It meant a better school and a nicer environment back then. It stretched my parents’ finances a bit too. It is funny though that my brothers and I really did not like that house the first time we saw it. It had terrible wallpapers, it was gloomy and ill lit, very cold and damp without central heating. Between the three of us, there was no excitement at moving there. Of course, within a few months, that house was completely different. Central heating had

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Green Demon

21 May 2015 | May 2015

The story I want to relay to you is one that I will never forget as long as I live. Let me start by giving you a bit of background, The house I grew up in was haunted and I still live there. It has gotten better, but there are still moments when I get creeped out. This story was probably the most strange one. I was 11 years old at the time. One night while sleeping, I suddenly was awakened by a presence in the room. I awoke without opening my eyes first and was scared to do so because I knew something else was in the room with me. At the time, I was lying on my stomach with my face right at the edge of my bed.

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The Elvis Presley Poster

20 May 2015 | May 2015

I come from Serbia and am now living in Sweden. All my life I have been a fan of Elvis, so I had a big Elvis Presley poster on my door. It had been there for about two years and one evening the poster fell down on the floor. I hung it up again, it fell down again. I cleaned the door and hung it up again, and it still fell down. I did the same about 10 times. The last time I threw it in the basket and went to bed. The first thing I heard on the radio the next morning was that Elvis died in his home – the same evening when my poster fell to the floor. Submitted by Tim

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Meet My Guide

18 May 2015 | May 2015

My father was a very good man and a great father. He was always so understanding of the strange events that happened to me and us while I was growing up and even into adult life. The reason for this was that he, too, experienced strange things and had done so since he was a boy. In fact, his mother was a medium, and my dad plainly had inherited some of the gift (?) and carried like an unwanted burden through his life. Unfortunately, Dad was a strong and quiet man, so he never told me much about his own experiences, but every now and then, perhaps over a pint, if he was in the right mood, he would mention one or two things that had occurred. His memories begin

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Cruel Dad

15 May 2015 | May 2015

My Mother-in-Law passed away recently. She had been extremely ill with cancer and right before she died, they suspected that she had a second case of cancer too. She was quite young at 68 and was comatose for the last few days of her life in the hospital. The morning that she died, my father-in-law was tending to her and trying to keep her as comfortable as possible. Her mobile phone rang and she ignored it as she was busy. Within three hours my mother-in-law died and a few days later he checked the voicemail messages. What he heard really startled him, and later startled me. He only played me the message a few weeks ago. All you can hear is this strange breathing sound and blowing noises and static. It starts

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Ghostly Angel?

15 May 2015 | May 2015

I usually wake up in the middle of the night. It seems to be a habit I’m used to. Anyway this one night I woke up and I saw something standing at the bottom of my bed. A bright white light shone around the figure and I couldn’t make anything else out. It was such a soothing experience, not scary at all. That’s my only paranormal experience. Submitted by Al.

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Medium

15 May 2015 | May 2015

There was a time growing up when I became quite fascinated by spiritualism. The idea that a person could communicate with the dead—actually see and hear ghosts—was of great interest to me. This was an interest that my mother was actually willing to share with me, and so we ended up taking a couple of trips to a spiritualist church in Hull, England. These sessions were always characterized as demonstrations of clairvoyance, rather than speaking with the dead; but that is exactly what these people did. On our second trip, my dad decided to stay at home, muttering something about it ‘only encouraging weird activity,’ but he was always interested in what had happened at the meetings, of course. He was, I believe, quite right. It did encourage the strange, ghostly

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The Apparition

13 May 2015 | May 2015

Growing up, I was in the local Church of England Choir. It wasn’t so much that I was religious, but I did love to sing. The weekly schedule was a practice one night per week and then both morning and evening services on Sunday. It was paid work too, but the regular pay was paltry – just a few pence per quarter of a year. No, the big-ticket item was a wedding for which you might get as much as 50p! Most weddings were held at the more picturesque parish church in a nearby village. This church was an old village church dating back to Norman times with it’s own cemetery around it. I hated to go there especially in the dark winter evenings and even more so after hearing

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The Vigil

12 May 2015 | May 2015

My father’s death was imminent. About 24 hours before he passed, I went to sit outside on a tree stump in a corner of the yard. My father’s home was in a heavily wooded, sparsely populated residential area. As I sat there amongst the trees, feeling the breeze, listening to the birdsong, enjoying the quiet of nature, I began to notice a stream of figures slowly fill the driveway and the path up to the house. These figures were unidentifiable as any specific individual. It seemed as though their facial features were blurred, even faceless. Some wore long white robes with hoods drawn up over their heads. Others were in regular clothing. There were both male and female figures. It was a very somber procession, and eventually, about 200 were

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Battle Cry!

12 May 2015 | May 2015

My Dad told me this creepy story several times when I was growing up. His childhood wasn’t so great and so he liked to escape at weekends or whenever he could. His best friend, Jack, and he, loved to cycle, camp and hike around East Yorkshire and that’s what they did just anytime they could. It was the years directly after the war and there was little traffic or other people to bother them. One night, they pitched their small two-man tent in a farmer’s field near Long Marston. They knew very well that, in the vicinity, many years ago, a battle had taken place there during the English Civil war – The battle of Marston Moor. It was partly why they were there as they both had a love

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The Haunted Jacket

11 May 2015 | May 2015

Many years ago I was just a poor broke student at a UK University. At least back then, research students got grants that allowed them to subsist and which could be supplemented with a bit of teaching or other part-time work. I was quite lucky in that I was teaching a geological mapping class to non-geology students for the amazing sum of ten pounds per hour in addition to a subsistence grant from the NERC (if such a thing exists anymore). However, I can tell you life wasn’t easy financially! Like most students then, I also kept an eye on the second hand clothes outlets for any bargains and one day, I spotted a beautiful tweed jacket that looked like it may fit me. I forget how much it was

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The Voice

11 May 2015 | May 2015

Thinking about the haunted jacket incident has brought back a few other memories and, in the run up to Halloween, I think I will develop a theme of ghostly experiences over the coming days. In that vein, here is today’s true scary story. It was the summer of 1981. Bryan Adams was playing on the radio, the sun was shining and I was driving a brand new Ford Mustang. I was in Nova Scotia, Canada where I was doing my first season of fieldwork for my Ph.D. thesis. Things could not be better. I had applied for a couple of Ph.D. programs earlier that summer. The one at Strathclyde University in conjunction with the British Geological Survey in Leeds was the one I wanted for all sorts of reasons. Firstly,

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