My Haunted Life Too

TRUE GHOST STORIES

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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