tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26188616703197285582024-03-05T08:26:33.145-05:00A Haunting in Grand Ledgescreamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-5273599972227377542017-11-16T22:22:00.000-05:002017-11-16T22:22:43.942-05:00Beginning's End<div class="MsoNormal">
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about living in a haunted
house, it’s this: you get used to it. Just like you get used to footsteps on
the ceiling when you live in a downstairs apartment, or road noise when you
live on a busy street, you adjust to the things that go bump in the night.
Which I guess is how we find ourselves here, two and a half years (!!!) between
blog posts. We still see things, hear things, and experience the unexplainable.
It’s just become somewhat commonplace. Something will happen, I’ll be too busy
to sit down and write about it right away, and then within a day or so, I’ve
forgotten all about it. But our otherworldly friends haven’t left us. We are,
however, getting ready to leave them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s been over five years since we moved into our spirited
little corner of the world, with no idea what we were in for. I’m so glad that
I decided to chronicle our time here, even if I have been pretty lax with it
the past couple of years. I love that we’ll have this weird little blog to look
back on years from now, when we’re struggling to remember what it was that made
this house so damn creepy. But all good things must come to an end. And so,
after ten years as a commitment-fearing renter, I decided it was time to dip my
toes back in the cesspool of home ownership.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yep, I BOUGHT A HOUSE! A new beginning. A fresh, ghost-free
start. And yet, I’m a little sad to be leaving behind our roommates. Recently,
I took a drive out to the new house for no other reason than to admire the “SOLD”
sign in the front yard. One of my favorite things about the new house is the
1920s twist doorbell. I have to ring it every time I’m there. So before I left
that day, I walked up onto the porch and rang the doorbell. And as I turned to
head back down the steps, I heard a door slam from inside my completely vacant,
completely closed up new house. Well. Here we go again, I guess. Stay tuned,
folks…<o:p></o:p></div>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-56211556319875150712015-01-29T21:31:00.000-05:002017-07-23T00:38:22.780-04:00ShatteredSo, it's been a while. And for good reason. Nothing worth writing about has happened in months. The most recent "event" I can think of was a few weeks ago, and that wasn't much. I was in the bathroom around midnight, and heard laughter coming from upstairs. Only our two youngest boys were home at the time, so I informed the hubs that they were still awake and needed a reminder that it was way past bedtime. He went upstairs, and found them both fast asleep. But I definitely heard children laughing, the sound was unmistakable. The situation was curious, yes. But not out of the ordinary.<br />
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Tonight, however, I have a story for you. Last night, a little after midnight (so technically this morning), the teenager came running downstairs and into my room, terrified. He said he was trying to sleep, and kept feeling someone touching him and running a hand through his hair. He said at one point, he distinctly felt someone sit down on his bed. (Which was what prompted him to come flying out of his room like a bat out of hell.)<br />
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Too afraid to go back upstairs, he slept on the couch. I slept on the loveseat beside him. Several times during the night, he jolted awake, insisting that someone had poked him or touched him. Once, he said he felt someone pulling on his leg. He kept thinking he saw shadows walking through the house. I didn't see anything, didn't feel anything, but I did keep hearing weird noises- creaking floorboards, the typical "things going bump in the night."<br />
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Needless to say, it was a rough night. I was thankful the boys had a snow day today to catch up on sleep. (Only wish I'd been as lucky.) Tonight when I got home, all was back to normal. The teenager was up in his room Netflixing, and everyone else was downstairs doing various things. Then from upstairs, we heard a loud crash/pop/explosion. The teenager found it before the rest of us got upstairs. The light fixture in his brother's room shattered in place. Didn't fall, didn't get bumped. Just exploded. There was no one in the room at the time.<br />
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So, basically, what I'm trying to say is....they're baaaaaack.<br />
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<br />screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-52021627225323173682014-11-28T20:55:00.001-05:002017-07-23T00:39:45.273-04:00The Tooth Fairy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sometimes, I forget our house is haunted. And then, always, something reminds me. <br />
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We're full swing into the holidays, and just celebrated Thanksgiving at home with our family yesterday. Which means that our house is still somewhat spotless. (Aside from the kitchen. For the love of God, stay out of the kitchen.) Which means that it's easy to spot something out of place. </div>
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Tonight, the boys and I went out to pick up dinner. We were gone about ten minutes, and the house was empty. When we came home, I walked into the living room and found a pillow in the middle of the living room floor. Not just any pillow, but a small "Tooth Fairy" pillow that we only get out when one of the kids loses a tooth. (And that hasn't happened in months.) I keep that pillow in my dresser drawer, in my bedroom, where it's been since this past summer. How it got into the living room, I have no idea.</div>
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I looked around the house for anything else amiss, and saw one of my picture frames in my bookcase tipped over. When I went to stand it back up, I found a dollar bill and a baseball card sitting on top of it. Those things also DEFINITELY were not there before, as the bookcase was just dusted yesterday. It's too cold to be leaving windows open 'round these parts, so it's not like the wind was blowing stuff around.</div>
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I tell you all of this calmly, but I swear on all things holy, if one of the boys loses a tooth tonight (nobody has any loose), I will motherf'n freak out. That's all for now. </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">HAPPY HOLIDAYS! </span></b></div>
screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-14239286286634703262014-09-26T11:09:00.001-04:002017-07-23T00:41:29.618-04:00With a Bang<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Things have been pretty quiet around the house as of late, but last night, our haunting came back with a bang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quite literally.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Around 3:30 in the morning, the entire house was awakened by a loud “crash” coming from my son’s room upstairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then several more. Then I listened in horror to what sounded like him falling down the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was paralyzed with fear, which was definitely not a good reaction to have, but hey, it was 3:30 in the morning and I was woken from a dead sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I began yelling for my son, who, thank God, didn’t fall down the stairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He ran down them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He came flying into my room saying, “I’m okay, I’m okay, I just got really scared.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We all took a few minutes to catch our breath, and then he explained that things started falling all over his room, which (understandably) freaked him out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He spent the remainder of the night on the couch downstairs, and this morning (after the sun came up) went back up to his room to check things out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On his floor were his phone from his nightstand, his TV controller which was on his bed, a video game controller that was on his entertainment center, and three action figures that were on display on a shelf in the hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re talking multiple items from multiple rooms here, people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently Bobby didn’t want us to sleep last night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounds like he just wanted to play.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-32450760065976148192014-09-24T11:13:00.000-04:002017-07-23T00:42:01.143-04:00Hatchet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So, my son found this in our yard today. Well, not in our yard, but in our driveway. The same driveway we are in and out of a bazillion times a day. If you know where we live, you know that we're not in a neighborhood. It's not like somebody walking by could have dropped it in our yard by accident. Where it came from is anyone's guess. All I know is that for as proud as my son is of his newfound treasure, I am equally freaked out.</div>
screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-34618010643214616442014-07-29T12:14:00.000-04:002017-07-23T00:47:14.075-04:003:31 A.M.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Recently, the hubs and I acquired some hand-me-down bedroom furniture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was excited, because A.) I would finally get to have a “grown up” looking bedroom, and 2.) it had a very “country” feel to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At long last, our bedroom was able to join the country/funky/antiquey theme the rest of our house has going. So we bought new bedding and rearranged everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I even got one of those antique pitcher and bowl stands, which creeps people out, but I love it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">As I’ve noticed pretty much every time we make changes to the house, it seemed to rile up the spirits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With our bed in a different position, we now face the bedroom door, out into the middle room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen “someone” standing in the doorway to our bedroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Always very briefly, and it’s gone before I’m even really sure I saw it, but it still weirds me out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">A couple of weeks ago now, my younger son was spending the night at a friend’s, so the teenager had the entire upstairs to himself, which he was very excited about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Around 2:00 in the morning, he came running down to my room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and then something slammed on the ground right outside his bedroom door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said it was so loud, he thought it was me or his step-dad coming up to check on him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he realized nobody was there, he freaked out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Last week, my older son was at a friend’s, so only my youngest was home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was asleep in bed with me, and my husband (bless his heart) was out on the couch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the middle of the night, I woke up from a very strange/scary dream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I don’t remember it now, but I did at the time.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t move or make any noise, just kind of laid there with my eyes open, trying to calm myself down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few seconds later, my son sat straight up in bed and started reaching around like he was looking for something, mumbling incoherently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just as he laid back down, I heard my husband get up from the couch and go walking through the middle room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 3:31 am, all three of us woke up, completely on our own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s weird, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stayed up for a while, waiting and watching for something to happen, but nothing did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, it was pretty odd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">A couple of nights later, we were getting ready to go to bed, and my husband went into the kitchen and turned off the light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said as he turned it off, he felt the sensation of someone covering his eyes with their hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he couldn’t see anything, and could actually feel the hands covering his eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That night, he said he woke up very suddenly in the middle of the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked at his phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was 3:31 am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So, all of this is going on, and I can still say that it’s been a really long time since I’ve been genuinely scared in my own home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Until last night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Last night, I passed OUT.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which means that, naturally, I woke up a couple hours later and was wide awake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got a glass of water, went to the bathroom, put on actual pajamas, and crawled back into bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dog, Sophie, wanted to join me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She scratched frantically on the side of the bed a few times, using both paws.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told her to go get in her own bed, and the scratching stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then about a minute later, I heard (and felt) it again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Scratch…scratch…scratch</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time it was much slower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I still heard it just the same, and felt the sheet tugging under my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rolled over to swat at Sophie, but she wasn’t there. She was across the room, in her bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Freaked out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turned on the TV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then tried to go back to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I tossed and turned for a few hours, then was awoken again by Sophie scratching on the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told her to go away, praying that what came next wouldn’t happen again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scratch…scratch…scratch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sound was slow and deliberate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pull of the sheets under my hand was undeniable<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Sophie was across the room, in her own bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had this overwhelming feeling that I had to get out of my room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I grabbed my pillow and my phone and did exactly that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My head was killing me and I felt sick to my stomach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I settled on the couch for what little bit of sleeping time I still had left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked at the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>3:31 am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-37255561915824000432014-07-06T21:44:00.002-04:002017-07-23T00:48:06.034-04:00Cuddle TimeHope you all had an awesome 4th of July weekend! We were busy, busy, busy- starting with the fireworks we attend every year on 4th of July Eve (otherwise known as July 3rd.)<br />
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On the 3rd, I got out of work, came home, and decided to take a short nap before we got ready to go watch the fireworks with friends. <br />
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I laid down on the couch, closed my eyes, and began to drift instantly. Over the next hour and a half, I slept and awoke in erratic intervals, all while my husband ran his fingers through my hair, which he often does when we're cuddling on the couch, or lying in bed together watching TV.<br />
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I woke up for the final time when the dogs began barking like crazy, at the sound of a truck in the driveway. My husband's truck. He'd left to go to the store before I even fell asleep. He wasn't beside me on the couch the entire time. And he definitely wasn't running his fingers through my hair. Apparently, nobody was...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tkKcohbyAdWZ44D9DMxiWm3hO6v8fe9DDUTqxkN0k6BI4RN3EnMpR4armHwYbddIT1VRwzuDRKzM1o77H_eIIBpTf4sdh6rMu2MQ8FoPCOLyOJW_tIuPXXSvD7Cp7mfRoU1NF6jfULQx/s1600/5926111623_Shh_by_Zaratops_answer_1_xlarge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tkKcohbyAdWZ44D9DMxiWm3hO6v8fe9DDUTqxkN0k6BI4RN3EnMpR4armHwYbddIT1VRwzuDRKzM1o77H_eIIBpTf4sdh6rMu2MQ8FoPCOLyOJW_tIuPXXSvD7Cp7mfRoU1NF6jfULQx/s1600/5926111623_Shh_by_Zaratops_answer_1_xlarge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-36468338588716058542014-07-01T21:35:00.000-04:002017-07-23T00:50:23.503-04:00VintageWhen we first moved into our home, we knew very little about its history. Built in the '20s, then bought in the 90's by my landlord from "The W Family." I was always under the impression that the house had only been owned by two families. All of the evidence found by historical researchers supported this, as there is no evidence of anyone owning it prior to the W family. <br />
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Months ago, I was contacted by the son of the W family, who grew up in this house. He shared some wonderful history with me, including that his family owned the house for nearly 40 years- but they were not the original owners. His family, he believed, bought the house from "The N Family." I believed him, but was confused- there was no record of this family in any historical records on the house.</div>
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So imagine my surprise when I was contacted by a member of the N family a couple months back! As it turns out, his family DID live in the house, only for about four or five years in the early 1950's. So they weren't the original owners either. Who knows how many families have lived here?! He shared some beautiful photos with me- of our house when what is now the master bedroom was the living room, the front porch that used to stretch the width of the house, and the vacant, wooded lot that houses the abandoned barn back when it was a wide open corn field. Absolutely LOVE them, and had to share!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBi5U70srnoBB58eDu79OlonrhlMi4dSV-VejZL5rnaG54ksX1a1hQQkuL-Dd1xAHfm8faw-VIIDLZf3w8i-j43LwUYIqXC04Xav7sUeBkEsQFAFfbaqRkYvulhyphenhyphenmVS7JhXh1hyphenhyphenwOxU07V/s1600/VINTAGEHOUSE3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBi5U70srnoBB58eDu79OlonrhlMi4dSV-VejZL5rnaG54ksX1a1hQQkuL-Dd1xAHfm8faw-VIIDLZf3w8i-j43LwUYIqXC04Xav7sUeBkEsQFAFfbaqRkYvulhyphenhyphenmVS7JhXh1hyphenhyphenwOxU07V/s1600/VINTAGEHOUSE3.jpg" width="371" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our house back before the addition, when it had a front porch, 1950's.</td></tr>
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'<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY4QFGC1H29zcc4mbqEN3GnnOy8kcHC-Sf3QTIfTvOxuCuhFc_wNEtvtMYgPiAk3cWGW9aDvb0Cvc2iRHacsaLhtIc0hkGoQbniyBYF6FrRpZWY2OtGPpf4o2N8X2nLS8fncxoiHwsn3xJ/s1600/VINTAGEHOUSE2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY4QFGC1H29zcc4mbqEN3GnnOy8kcHC-Sf3QTIfTvOxuCuhFc_wNEtvtMYgPiAk3cWGW9aDvb0Cvc2iRHacsaLhtIc0hkGoQbniyBYF6FrRpZWY2OtGPpf4o2N8X2nLS8fncxoiHwsn3xJ/s1600/VINTAGEHOUSE2.jpg" width="248" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The vacant, wooded lot with the creepy barn was once a corn field! See the chicken coop in the background?</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7dAgCpSYp5EKgHSc-ENQb8eWpAk_oLcd3-skmYJJI75Z8IushpcpYyfLEF9u-h2u_klo1-35QzDwAEmnuUhQaHrbJ255qbWuJa5FPTNB7rIAIWtT4OplgMLJlBF8i69fHJMGOerMSdhyphenhyphen/s1600/VINTAGEHOUSE4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7dAgCpSYp5EKgHSc-ENQb8eWpAk_oLcd3-skmYJJI75Z8IushpcpYyfLEF9u-h2u_klo1-35QzDwAEmnuUhQaHrbJ255qbWuJa5FPTNB7rIAIWtT4OplgMLJlBF8i69fHJMGOerMSdhyphenhyphen/s1600/VINTAGEHOUSE4.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The massive, five lane highway that is busy 24/7 was once a quiet, two lane country road!</td></tr>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-43105616760425429632014-06-28T21:19:00.000-04:002017-07-23T00:58:19.429-04:00Bad Apple<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In taking my family's story public, I've received some pretty interesting emails over the past couple of years- emails from paranormal investigation teams wanting to visit our house; emails from prior owners/tenants of the house, dating all the way back to the early 1950's; even an email from a production company interested in featuring our story on a reality show.<br />
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A couple months back, I was contacted by the lead investigator of a paranormal team that wanted to investigate our house. I'd kind of closed the door on the whole investigation thing, as we've done it several times, but he was very...enthusiastic...so I agreed.</div>
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He brought his team out for an investigation, and the night went well- lots of evidence and experiences. A few weeks later, I was contacted again by the lead investigator, who wanted to collaborate on some different projects. The first was a presentation at a local historical society- he wanted me to join his group and speak about what it's like to live in a haunted house. So I took an evening out of my busy schedule and went, just for the heck of it.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjad3098pgJ0a0SRLERp22qHWeqw00e7FUxm1_XhzHXL7NzvHbOifn3sb5INvX8gj8ifhnayB1zwng7aks2P4850N0OZb2zHn21ogxgGEv8a-J4kGF2apidzYSYwQSiG1BziBHv8rUAofmn/s1600/10417443_10203891363715082_701167367495679541_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjad3098pgJ0a0SRLERp22qHWeqw00e7FUxm1_XhzHXL7NzvHbOifn3sb5INvX8gj8ifhnayB1zwng7aks2P4850N0OZb2zHn21ogxgGEv8a-J4kGF2apidzYSYwQSiG1BziBHv8rUAofmn/s1600/10417443_10203891363715082_701167367495679541_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My failed attempt at a selfie with the crowd before my speech.<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Can you see the fear in my eyes?! (I hate public speaking.)</span></td></tr>
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Following the presentation was another project- a documentary being made by film students about the paranormal investigation team. They wanted our house to be a part of the documentary. Sounded like a cool venture, so I agreed. </div>
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We took an evening off from baseball and missed one of my son's games to stay home and conduct interviews. The following week, we stashed the dogs and the kids at various houses, skipped baseball again, and spent an entire day readying our house for the film crew and paranormal investigation team to arrive. Throughout the day, I attempted to contact the lead investigator to find out when everyone would be arriving- he'd previously given me a window of between 7:30pm and 9pm. He was unreachable. So imagine my surprise when the film crew arrived just after 6:00pm, WHILE I WAS IN THE SHOWER. Needless to say, I was none too thrilled. The last thing you want to be when you're preparing yourself to be filmed for an evening is rushed or stressed. And I was both. </div>
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After a lot of hurrying around while the film crew mulled about outside, and still with no contact from the lead investigator, we eventually got it together. The film crew came in and began setting up, and my blood pressure began to lower. The investigation team arrived, and the lead investigator was full of apologies and excuses. We were good to go, right?</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The film crew setting up.</td></tr>
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Wrong. Within the first half hour of the paranormal investigation team arriving, I started to realize that there was something very wrong with the lead investigator. He was stumbling around, slurring his words, spilling food on the floor, passing out in the middle of conversations. He repeatedly claimed he was just tired, but I wasn't born yesterday, therefore I wasn't buying it.</div>
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As the night progressed, things got worse. His team covered for him as best they could- trying to get him to sit the investigation out, making excuses for him, etc. Being the stubborn guy that he is, he was his own worst enemy. He insisted on taking a film crew around the house while he "investigated." </div>
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The highlight of the evening was when he came and sat on the couch beside me, and began asking me questions that made no sense and saying things I couldn't understand. He would pass out for several minutes at a time, then pick the conversation back up right where he'd left off. All the while, there was a camera just inches from his face, recording footage that was more appropriate for an episode of <i>Intervention</i> than a <i>Ghost Hunters</i> knock-off.</div>
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My husband's patience wore thin, and he went and got the other members of the team and asked them to remove their leader from the premises. They were understandably mortified, and tried their best to get him out of the house with the slight bit of dignity he had left. But he would have none of it. He argued, resisted, and caused a huge scene, all in front of the cameras. Finally, his partner was able to get him to agree to go home. We took a break, regrouped, and then resumed the investigation.</div>
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The team members that remained were professional, kind, and beyond apologetic. But there was just no recovering from the nightmare their boss had created. After a few hours of filming, they called it a night and headed home.</div>
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The next day, I received a couple of rambling voicemails from the lead investigator, apologizing and making all sorts of excuses. I'd already allowed him to waste so much of my time, I had no intention of letting him waste anymore. But then he sent me a written message that I simply couldn't ignore. </div>
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In the message, he admitted to being on prescription medication during the investigation, but then proceeded to blame his team members for the majority of the things that went wrong that night. He blamed on them things that I personally witnessed him do, as well as things that never even happened in the first place- these people who tried so hard to cover for him, protect him, and fill in for him while he was high as a kite. None of them had a bad word to say about him, but he had nothing but bad things to say about them.</div>
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He was apparently unaware that I have a "no bullshit" policy, so he was surprised when I promptly set him straight. We haven't spoken since. I reached out to one of the members of his team to ask about the documentary, and she continued to apologize and make excuses for him until I set some facts straight for her. Seems he makes a habit out of lying to and manipulating others, and she was under some major misconceptions about what went on that night, as was the rest of his team. Once I informed her of what actually went on inside the house with him and the film crew while she and the rest of the team were outside scrambling to do his job for him, things really began to come together- for both of us.</div>
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On top of everything else, I found out that this "expert" had taken it upon himself to begin trying to recruit teams to come investigate my house, and was going to charge them a fee and keep half. Without my permission or authorization, he staked some sort of claim on our property and our story, and was trying to use my family to turn a profit and boost his reputation. Furious is not even the word.</div>
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It's my understanding that the group has disbanded since that catastrophe of a night, as he continues to try to lie his way out of it and misplace blame. The unfortunate thing is that some of his team members actually bought his lies and sided with him. But I suppose nothing can be done about those who refuse to see what's right in front of them. </div>
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As for the documentary? Between the footage that was completely unusable due to the lead investigator's altered state, and the fact that the investigation that followed his departure was pretty much a complete mess because of his actions earlier in the evening, despite how hard his group tried to pull it back together- the portion of the documentary featuring our home and our story was left on the cutting room floor. </div>
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All that time. All that inconvenience. All that drama. It was all for nothing. But one good thing did come of it, I suppose- I learned a very important lesson. I need to be more selective of the messages I respond to and the people I let in, because not everyone has my family's best interest at heart in all of this. Some people are only out for themselves- motivated by greed and the chance for exposure. I guess in every bunch, there's bound to be at least one bad apple. If nothing else, I'm thankful for that reminder, I suppose.</div>
screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-17934980103485731872014-04-30T15:41:00.002-04:002017-07-23T00:59:27.717-04:00Mom, I'm Scared...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixALaNGi3SMvmCJaHFm8f1dQC266h_gBQLpGUHFT_O8E51qbHzTyQKSwF3HkDK-zOi0yS9h1Wc3kwmNSiFANt4255QgCeiIWezNSWcCwcixj_ldyDjjH8dCmQDW1juDWtyy-u8-ozX0wAp/s1600/hiding+boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixALaNGi3SMvmCJaHFm8f1dQC266h_gBQLpGUHFT_O8E51qbHzTyQKSwF3HkDK-zOi0yS9h1Wc3kwmNSiFANt4255QgCeiIWezNSWcCwcixj_ldyDjjH8dCmQDW1juDWtyy-u8-ozX0wAp/s1600/hiding+boy.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Those are the words that woke me up this morning. My son was standing beside my bed, his eyes wide. He'd been upstairs (by himself) getting ready for school, when he heard the sound of a child's laughter in his brother's room, which is right next to his. Then, according to him, something loud crashed to the ground. <br />
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I heard none of this happen. But yesterday, when I was home alone, I heard a loud crash upstairs. I called my husband and told him that either a tree had fallen on the house, or one of the boys' TVs fell to the floor.<br />
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My husband investigated both yesterday and this morning, and found nothing that would have caused such a loud "crashing" noise.<br />
<br />screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-66144592485900361952014-04-28T22:47:00.001-04:002017-07-23T01:02:48.714-04:00A Night With The Others<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A couple of weeks ago, I was contacted by a local paranormal investigation team that was interested in investigating the house. We've already had four investigations, so I thought- <i>eh, what's one more? </i>Been there, done it, got the t-shirt. Actually, I don't have a t-shirt. I should really get myself one of those. Anyway...<br />
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On April 26, 2014, close to a dozen paranormal investigators descended upon our haunted abode with trunks full of all kinds of crazy equipment. We didn't even make it through the tour of the house before they began having what investigators call "personal experiences" (evidence of the paranormal that they saw and felt for themselves.) <br />
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While we are still waiting for the official evidence review, there was some craziness that went on during the investigation. I was able to catch a couple of things on video! And since I now know how to download videos from Facebook to Youtube (yaaaay!), I can share what I caught with all of you.<br />
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The first video is of "the flashlight trick." One of the investigators placed a MagLite flashlight on the bench in the middle room of the house, which was otherwise empty. He then explained to the spirits that they could twist the flashlight to turn it on to answer questions, then twist it again to turn it back off.<br />
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The video turned out like crap, but you can see the light shine on the wall a couple of times in response to questions. After that, the video stopped picking up the flashes, which was crazy, because they were lighting up the entire room. But you can hear the investigator's responses to the light continuing to be turned on and off.<br />
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WATCH THE FLASHLIGHT TRICK HERE:</div>
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The second video is of a K-II meter going off. A K-II meter detects electromagnetic fields, or EMFs. In the paranormal community, it is believed that all spirits produce electromagnetic fields, which can be manipulated at will by the spirits. So the theory is that a spirit can use a K-II meter to communicate or make their presence known. All evening, there was a K-II meter lying on the couch, with no result. Then our puppy, Opie, jumped up on the couch, and the K-II meter started going crazy. The video, once again, is crappy quality. But. You CAN see the lights going off on the meter and hear it chirping and beeping, if you look and listen really closely. To me, the creepiest part is when the investigator asks the spirit to pet Opie. Opie instantly lays down and stays there, as if someone is in fact petting him.</div>
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WATCH THE K-II METER GO OFF HERE: </div>
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Needless to say, it was a crazy night. I can't wait until we get all of the evidence and see what else the investigators found. A big thank you to Gary, Kim, and their team for coming out, and we look forward to working with them in the future.</div>
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Oh, and just because this whole downloading videos from Facebook to Youtube thing is new to me, I thought I'd share one other video, one I talked about before but was not able to post due to my lack of tech savvy-ness. Here is the video taken from last summer of the light in the middle room of our house turning itself on and off:</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">ENJOY!</span></b></div>
screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-22933059166225901102014-04-16T13:16:00.002-04:002017-07-23T18:24:41.021-04:00The Heebie Jeebies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One benefit of living in a haunted house is that I've become kind of hard to rattle. Even when scary things happen, I don't really get scared anymore.<br />
I'm kind of like, "Oookay, here we go again." And if we have company over when something happens, and they're getting freaked out...well...I actually kind of love that. Super amusing.<br />
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Anyway, my point is- my house doesn't scare me hardly ever anymore. Last night, however, I was up well past one in the morning, just because. When I finally went to bed, the bedroom lights were still on. I went into my closet, which is a large, walk-in closet (and I believe used to be a bedroom once upon a time) and turned the light off. The second that light was off and the closet was pitch black, I was TERRIFIED. Like, goose bumps, heart racing, fighting the urge to scream terrified. And I have no idea why. </div>
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I'm still on crutches (yes, still) so running was out of the question. Instead, I hobbled my way back into the bedroom as quickly as I could, but the feeling didn't leave me. I felt like something (someone?) was following me. I hurried into the middle room, then the kitchen, as quickly as I could, turning every light on along the way. It took me a good five minutes to calm down.</div>
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I didn't see anything, didn't hear anything, but I definitely felt it. And whatever "it" was, was horrifying.</div>
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In other news, I never told y'all about the scratches, did I? Probably not. I think I kept it to myself because I thought I'd found a logical explanation for them, but now I'm not so sure.</div>
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So, here goes- shortly after I had my accident, which was nearly three months ago now, I started noticing scratches on my left arm. Not just a couple small ones, but several long, deep, wide scratches between my elbow and my wrist, on both the inside and outside of my arm.</div>
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Here's the thing- I was literally doing absolutely nothing with my life at that time due to my injury. I was glued to my couch, pretty much 24 hours a day. There was no explanation for where these scratches were coming from, but they just kept coming. I thought it was weird, but then decided that somehow the velcro on the brace on my leg must have been causing it, even though I had no idea how.</div>
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Now- it's my other arm. And instead of scratches, it's bruises. I bruise pretty easily, so I don't think anything of it when I find a random bruise (especially on my leg), but these are different. I have three large, deep, distinct bruises on my right arm, all below the elbow, just like the scratches were. One on the outside of my forearm, one on the inside of my forearm, and one on the back of my hand. I have no clue where they came from. I'm still a total cripple. While I'm slightly more active than I was three months ago, I'm certainly not active enough to be getting all banged up like this. I've got no clue where the bruises (or the scratches, for that matter) came from.</div>
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Maybe I should ask whoever or whatever is inhabiting my closet, waiting for me to shut the lights off so they can scare the bejesus out of me. Maybe they know.</div>
screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-38646522625234234402014-03-31T01:02:00.002-04:002017-07-23T18:25:13.993-04:00A Haunted Life<div style="text-align: center;">
Exactly two years ago today, our family got the keys to our haunted house. It's been a crazy past couple of years, so I thought I'd take some of the best excerpts and create a little video. (Please don't ask me how long it took me- the answer is waaaaay too long. I'm really not tech savvy at all.) Anyway, enjoy!</div>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-26276707829973521882014-02-23T19:39:00.001-05:002017-07-23T18:28:30.681-04:00They're Baaaack We live in a busy world. Sometimes we go weeks, even months, without talking to some of our closest friends and family members. When we do get a chance to catch up, the questions are always the same. How's the family? How's work? And, in our case, "has anything new happened in your house lately?" Might sound like an odd question, but I imagine it's pretty standard when you live in a haunted house.<br />
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For months, my answer to that question was the same. "Nothing." As I explained in my blog post last month, things around the house have been quiet for quite some time. I've even been home 24/7 for the past month now due to an unfortunate slip and fall that's left me a temporary invalid, and I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary. And trust me, I've been paying close attention. How many horror movies start out with someone injured and stuck at home alone with nothing better to do than let their mind run wild? At least a few, right?</div>
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Anyway, my point...just when I was starting to think we'd been abandoned by "the others" for good, last night happened. Last night, I had a bout of insomnia with a wicked underlying migraine. I was up well past 6:30 in the morning. And during that time, I realized something. Our spirits haven't gone anywhere. They just save their shenanigans for the middle of the night. (And apparently we've gotten so used to them, we sleep right through them now.)</div>
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Picture this: it's 3:30 in the morning, it's pitch black outside, and the house is silent except for two things: the sound of coyotes howling from the woods out back (that's the new thing in our neighborhood these days, and it's creepy as hell) and a mysterious clunking/banging sound coming from upstairs. It's not easy for me to get around these days, what with the crutches and the leg brace that goes from the top of my thigh to the bottom of my ankle, so I listened for about a half hour to banging, followed by footsteps, followed by more banging. Earlier in the night, a little after midnight, my oldest son's alarm clock started going off, even though it was turned off. I didn't think much of it at the time, but given the events that followed, I have to wonder now.</div>
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A little before 4, I sent my husband upstairs to investigate. His youngest son was awake, but insisted he hadn't been awake for long. Was he the one responsible for all the racket? Or was the racket responsible for waking him up I was more inclined to believe the former, until about an hour later. I heard a noise that at first sounded like a semi or loud diesel truck idling in our driveway. It went on long enough and was loud enough that I eventually got up and hobbled my way into the kitchen. </div>
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Once I reached the kitchen, I realized that the sound wasn't coming from outside. I checked the refrigerator, the sink, the oven, before realizing that the sound was coming from inside the walls. I still don't know exactly what it was, but it sounded like the pipes were shaking and vibrating- not just a little bit, but enough to bust right through the walls. </div>
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After a few minutes, it stopped, and gave way to another noise. The sound of water spilling all over the floor upstairs. It was very distinct and unmistakable. I made my way to the bottom of the stairs to make sure I wasn't imagining things. Not only did I hear water spilling everywhere, I also heard the TV in the boys' room blaring. I hurried (as fast as a one-legged cripple on crutches can hurry) to my bedroom and woke up my husband. <br />
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"The kids are awake with the TV on at 5 in the morning, and the toilet or the sink in the bathroom up there is overflowing and water's spilling everywhere. You need to get up." The hubs jumped out of bed and made his way up the stairs. I returned to my makeshift non-sleeping zone on the couch. After a few minutes, he returned.</div>
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"Well?" I asked. </div>
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"The kids are asleep, there are no TVs on and there's no water on the floor anywhere," he said. So. That happened. (And may I just remind you that coyotes were yipping and howling outside our windows the ENTIRE time.) Needless to say, I didn't fall asleep until after daylight broke.</div>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-21109036679600850342014-01-16T11:49:00.000-05:002014-01-16T11:49:01.607-05:00A Haunting Update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Jumpin' Jehoshaphat! (What does that even mean, btw?) It's been almost three months since I've updated the blog. Whaaaat?! First and foremost, let me say- sorry! The holidays are crazy for the C fam- that's the best excuse I can come up with. <br />
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Anyway- here's what's been going on: NOT A WHOLE LOT. I'm not sure whether it's because there really hasn't been much activity in the house lately, or because we blame pretty much everything, including global warming, on our new puppy these days. Meet Opie.<br />
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Isn't he cute? He's also a holy terror. Which means we're not as likely to notice strange noises or things disappering or being moved as we once were. <br />
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I was thinking today, when I realized how long it's been since I've posted anything, about how much things have changed. We've been in our haunted house nearly two years now. Within the first six months, I found a dead bat in my living room, a chipmunk swimming in my toilet, and a rabid mouse in the drawer under my oven- chewed right through a wall to get into the house! Since then, nothing. <br />
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There were smoke detectors being set off all hours of the day and night, footprints on the floor, things flying and breaking and moving and slamming- so much craziness, it felt like living in a movie. Now? Just a noise or movement out of the corner of one's eye or a creepy feeling now and then. <br />
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Maybe it was all just a show of force when we first moved in. Or maybe they got sick of us bugging them back (a la, the four paranormal investigations in a year's time) and decided to leave us alone in hopes that we'd return the favor. Either way, I dare say peace has come to the C Fam abode. Here are some updates I've been meaning to share, but just haven't had time:<br />
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<strong><u>Fourth Investigation:</u></strong> The findings from our fourth paranormal investigation didn't turn up any evidence aside from the experiences we had during the investigation (which are documented in my last post.) At this time, we don't have any further investigations planned. But who knows? That could always change...<br />
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<strong><u>History Lesson:</u></strong> A couple months back, I got an email from one of the former owners of the house. His family owned/lived in the house for nearly fifty years until selling it to my landlord. He found out we were digging into the history of the house, and wanted to share some information with me. <br />
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First and foremost, my "haunted farmhouse" isn't really a farmhouse at all. Just a house. In the 1800s, it was part of a plot of farmland. The original farmhouse still stands, and is our next door neighbor to the west of us, on the other side of the abandoned lot. In the early 1900s, the land was divided up into several properties- a small one with the original house and barn, an empty lot with a barn where shetland ponies were raised (now the abandoned barn), our property, and our next door neighbor to the east 's property. What we call the "chicken coop" was part of that farm, and is the oldest structure on our property. (Which may explain why it's the most haunted.)<br />
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His family did not build the house, as I'd always believed. It was owned by at least one other family before his family bought it in the 1950's. We've not been able to find any history on that family, or anyone who lived in the house prior to his family buying it.<br />
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He had no idea why the house might be haunted, and didn't have a lot of personal experiences to share. He did say that the abandoned barn out back always gave him the creeps, and told me about a time when he was maybe 11 or 12, the first time he was allowed to stay home alone. It was winter, and it was snowing. He was in the house by himself, and heard footsteps outside, crunching in the snow, all around the house. He was (understandably) terrified, and thought someone was trying to break in. When he went outside the next morning to look- no footprints, just fresh snow.<br />
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<strong><u>Halloween Haunting:</u></strong> When you live in a haunted house, Halloween parties are pretty much obligatory. We had a houseful of "amateur ghost hunters" mulling around all night. Here's one photo that was snapped in the basement by my friend Tena. Some people claim to see the shadow of a face right in the middle of the picture. Do you see it?<br />
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That's pretty much all I've got for ya right now. I truly can't recall the last real "incident" we've had. But I'll be sure to keep everyone posted. In the mean time....no news is good news. Right?screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-1307018287095504572013-10-24T11:06:00.003-04:002013-10-24T11:23:32.164-04:00Child's Play <br />
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On Saturday night, the folks from Grimstone Inc. made their second visit to our haunted abode. This time, they brought different equipment and a slightly different investigation team. This time, we did something we’ve never, ever done before…..we let our kids stay home during the investigation. (Not all four of them, though- the two youngest are afraid of their own shadows, so it’s definitely not something they could have handled.)<br />
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The boys were quiet, watching with wide eyes as the investigators brought in case after case of equipment. We updated them on everything that’s happened in the house since the last investigation, including the fact that it’s been well over a month since anyone has slept upstairs. They talked to the boys a bit about that, and then decided to begin the investigation upstairs. As they got out different pieces of equipment, they took their time explaining to the kids how each one worked. They even gave them an EMF detector to carry with them, and told them what to look for and when to call for help.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ethan thinks he found somethin'!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An investigator from Grimstone showing Ethan how the EMF detector works</td></tr>
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The investigators: Kara, Barbara, Josh, and Shannon, performed an EVP session in E-Man’s bedroom while we stayed downstairs in the living room. Then they got out a device called a Frank’s Box (also known as a spirit box, or ghost box.) That’s when the real fun began. The Frank’s Box is essentially a modified radio that scans through radio stations very quickly, creating a steady stream of white noise. The thought is that spirits can speak through that white noise. The thing that’s different about the Frank’s Box from other equipment is that the results are instant. Whereas most evidence has to be reviewed, a Frank’s Box produces instant results- you can hear the activity as it occurs.</div>
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Needless to say, the boys were fascinated by this. They stood at the bottom of the stairs listening intently as the investigators asked questions. At one point, one of the investigators asked, “Can you tell us your name?” The response was loud and clear: “Bobby.” I thought the boys would be afraid, but they weren’t. A little freaked out, maybe, but not afraid. They got the green light from the investigator manning surveillance to go upstairs and join the party, so we all headed up to E’s bedroom to witness the investigation close up. One of the questions asked by investigators was “Whose room is this?” The voice that came through the Frank’s Box said, “Ethan.” (Ding, ding, ding!) Someone asked “it” to name someone in the room. Over the next few minutes, we heard “Kara,” “Shannon” and “Barb” all spoken separately. (Correct again!) It was really, really freaky. We then headed downstairs to the master bedroom for an EVP session and a Frank’s Box session. The boys asked some questions, made some jokes, and got some responses through the box to yes and no questions.</div>
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And that was about all the ghost hunting the boys could handle. It was nearly midnight, after all. We returned to our campout in the living room, and the investigators returned to their investigating. The boys quickly fell asleep. The Hubs played on his phone (Candy Crush, I’m sure.) I spent a little time listening to the live broadcast of the 97.5 Paranormal Investigation, which was coincidentally on the same night, and then talked with Shannon, the investigator running the last surveillance shift, until the lights came back on.</div>
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Some things I overheard/found out over the course of the evening, but have not been shared as “official” investigation findings at this time: One of the new investigators got an overwhelming sense that something tragic had happened in the house immediately upon entering. She was very uncomfortable upstairs, and felt like she shouldn’t be there. Another of the investigators, while in one of the upstairs bedrooms, could feel someone watching him from the hallway.</div>
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During a Frank’s Box session in the downstairs bathroom, investigators heard the word, “dead.” When they asked, “Who’s dead?,” the voice responded, “Me.” At one point, I was in the kitchen getting a drink when I heard a commotion downstairs, where the investigators had convened. All night, they’d been asking “it” to turn a flashlight on and off, and from the sounds of it, they achieved success in the basement.</div>
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The investigators left around 1:30 or so in the morning. The Hubs and I went to bed. At 2:20, we were awoken by a loud crash outside our door, where a picture had somehow fallen off the wall. I wasn’t afraid or upset, I’m becoming an old hat at these paranormal investigations. But I was restless and couldn’t sleep at all. I was nauseous, and came down with a serious migraine that lasted well into Sunday. Not sure if it was related to the investigation, or just a coincidence.</div>
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When the boys woke up the morning after the investigation, they were bummed that they’d fallen asleep before it was over. They didn’t seem scared or traumatized or any worse for the wear. But my 10-year-old did inform me that he’s never, ever, ever sleeping upstairs again. Sooo….there’s that.</div>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-38622233042378904062013-09-27T16:14:00.002-04:002013-09-27T16:14:27.764-04:00Busy Morning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It seems that randomly playing music is going to be the new "thing" in our house. This morning at about 6, with The Hubs already at work and both kids asleep in my bed (don't ask) and me on the couch, I was actually semi-awake when I heard the music turn on upstairs. This time, it was The Beatles' "Hello, Goodbye" that started playing out of nowhere, with nobody upstairs (or even awake.) </div>
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The curious part is, the song didn't even start at the beginning, it started right in the middle of the song, with the words, "Hello, hello!" It played for about a minute, and then before I worked up the courage to go upstairs and turn it off, it stopped. So I have no idea which device it came from- iPhone, iPod, iPod touch, TV, other TV.....coulda been anything.</div>
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Then, a couple hours later, after the boys got on the bus and I was laying back down in bed trying to rest for a bit before going to work, my husband came home from work early. I listened as his heavy footsteps walked through the dining room, the kitchen, the middle room....and then stopped. I turned to face the door, fully expecting him to be standing there looking at me. He wasn't. I called his name. He didn't answer. I texted him and asked where he was. Still at work. For another three hours. Hmmm. Well. Okay.</div>
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I feel like September and October are important months for our spirits. It was last September that I took the photo of the footprints at the end of my bed (see an edited version of said photo below), and the activity really picked up from there. Especially in the days before (of course during) and after the first paranormal investigation we had done last October.</div>
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Oh, did I forget to mention? We are having our FOURTH paranormal investigation in a couple of weeks. Grimstone Inc. is coming back, and this time the kids are staying home during the investigation!! (The kids' request, not mine. I think it's a horrible idea.) Stay tuned....</div>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-17327088969185973692013-09-25T13:51:00.000-04:002013-09-25T13:51:24.925-04:00Sweet Dreams<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m of the belief that some dreams have meaning and some have none whatsoever, generally speaking. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But every time I dream about our house or the spirits in it, I wake up totally freaked out,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>convinced that our ghosts are trying to send me a message.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last night (this morning?), I was having a perfectly pleasant dream where I was with a group of friends at some event, and we were just talking and hanging out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mom showed up with a box of stuff she found in the (her? my?) attic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In it, there was a photo of a man who looked like he was straight out of the 1970s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>or 80s, with big, clunky glasses, a sweet porn stache, and thick, brown feathered hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can still see the picture perfectly in my mind, the dream was that vivid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was wearing a white polo tennis shirts with a few thick stripes through the middle, and some waaaaay too short white shorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was also wearing a gold chain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(See, told you….I can still see it perfectly in my head.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I feel like he was on a bike, or near a bike, and there was a woman in the photo with him, but I don’t remember her face as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked my mom who he was and why I should care about this picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She explained some present day link, which I don’t remember now (he worked in my building, or was one of the paranormal investigators on our case, or was a former teacher of mine or something like that) and then said, “look at his name.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t, for the life of me, remember what the name was, or why it was written in big block letters on the front of the picture, but I do remember that his first name was Robert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I think <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this</i> is Bobby,” my mom said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I started screaming- this blood curdling, top of my lungs, hysterical shriek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was staring at the picture, just screaming and screaming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I realized, in my dream, that Bobby was never the name of one of our ghosts, “Bobby” was the person <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">responsible</i> for all of the ghosts in our house, and that every time the little ghost boy talked about “Bobby,” he was trying to tell us about the person who killed him, not tell us his own name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I screamed so much and so loud in my dream that it woke me up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m 99% sure that it’s the reason for my migraine today, as well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I woke up terrified.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted so badly to run out of my room, out of my house altogether, and not come back until daylight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My youngest son was asleep in my bed, and I couldn’t leave him alone in my room with whoever or whatever was planting nightmares in my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, I’m being overly dramatic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dream probably meant nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t even make any sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But even now, in the light of day and with my fears calmed, I still feel like it meant SOMETHING.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although what, I have no idea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-79632926494041153042013-09-20T09:40:00.000-04:002013-09-22T11:35:38.040-04:00Whatcha Gonna Do?Last night, I didn't sleep. Like at all. Which is so stupid, because I was beyond exhausted. I tried to sleep. Several times. But something (someone?) wouldn't let me. Every time I would start to fall asleep, I would be startled awake, by what I'm not quite sure. But my adrenaline was pumping and my heart was racing- so much so that I was afraid there was something medically wrong with me. <br />
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I hadn't had a bad dream. I hadn't heard or seen anything to warrant such a reaction, but it literally felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my chest. I got so freaked out, I woke my husband up. In case I, you know, died or something. As I sat in bed, trying to figure out what was wrong with me, I was reminded of a few other times I've woken up in panic mode. <br />
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Most recently, it's happened when I heard someone talking to me while I was sleeping. Once a woman, and once what sounded like a little boy. Both times, I woke up with that same adrenaline rush, my heart pounding. But this time there had been no voice, nothing that had happened to cause this. Nothing I could consciously remember, at least. <br />
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Around 2 am, I got up to go to the bathroom for the millionth time. I checked on the boys, who were fast asleep on the couch in the living room, and then went to the bathroom. On my way back to my room, I heard something upstairs. A voice. I walked slowly to the bottom of the stairs to listen more closely.<br />
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It was music. "Bad Boys," to be exact. (Yes, the <i>Cops</i> theme song.) I returned to my bedroom and got my husband, who was just starting to fall asleep again, back up. <br />
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"There's music upstairs," I told him as I climbed back into bed.<br />
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"What?" he asked, almost as if he didn't believe me.<br />
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"Music, upstairs. Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?" I elaborated, getting back into bed, making it clear that he was going to have to be the one to solve this particular mystery. He sleepily made his way upstairs, returning a few minutes later. "What was it?" I asked.<br />
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"Austin's iPhone," he answered, satisfied. Mystery solved. <i>Austin's iPhone??</i><br />
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As I laid there, wide awake, listening to my husband's breathing turn into quiet snores, my mind was racing. I had turned Austin's iPhone off earlier in the evening after informing him that he would not be using it for a few days. (Long story.) I'd let him put it upstairs on the charger before bed, but it was still turned off. The kids were fast asleep downstairs, I saw them with my own two eyes. And there was no music playing the several other times I'd gotten up to go to the bathroom that night. It wasn't even playing on my way TO the bathroom, just on my way back.<br />
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I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I mean, it's definitely not the craziest thing to ever happen in our house. But I couldn't help but feel a little unsettled as I stared into the darkness, the song's lyrics playing over and over in my head: <br /><br />
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<br />screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-45541693180249226112013-09-15T21:54:00.001-04:002013-09-15T21:54:43.117-04:00ApparitionOf all of the crazy things that have happened in our house, there's one thing I'd not yet experienced until last night. I'd never <i>seen</i> anything. I've heard things, felt things, sensed things....but never actually SEEN any "ghosts" or ghost-like things. But last night....<br />
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Last night, I got up around 2 am or so to use the bathroom. When I walked out into the middle room, I was startled by what I thought was a person sitting on the bench against the wall. When I stopped to really look, there was nothing there. I used the bathroom, made my way back down the hall and through the middle room, and as I entered my bedroom, I saw the same "thing" standing beside the bed, near the closet door. I blinked, and it was gone. <br />
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It was almost like a light brownish, person-shaped fog. Both times I saw it, it was gone within seconds. But the fact that I saw it twice, in two separate rooms, within a five minute time span......well, I can no longer say that I've never seen a ghost in the house. Because I'm not entirely sure anymore.<br />
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-2843382173756380672013-08-16T13:32:00.001-04:002014-04-28T20:53:22.766-04:00Caught on Tape!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Finally, FINALLY, I was able to catch some of our haunted house shenanigans on video. Usually, things happen so fast and in the middle of the night that I don't have time to register what's happening until after the fact. So I definitely never have the time to play amateur filmmaker. But last night....</div>
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Last night it was just me and my 10-year-old, E-Man, at home. We were watching TV in the living room, and out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw the light in the middle room turn on. I got up to check the light switch, verified that it was in the off position, and then returned to the couch. I decided it was probably just some especially bright headlights lighting up the room, as we are on a main road and have constant traffic.</div>
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A few minutes later, it happened again. My son saw it, too. The ceiling light in the middle room turned on, then off, then flickered, then turned off again. A couple minutes later, it happened again. After the third or fourth time, I decided to try to catch it on camera. </div>
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I started recording with my phone. Nothing happened. After about a minute, I turned my recorder off. Quite literally the very second I turned it off, the light came on again. I turned the camera back on immediately. As I was explaining what was happening, my son said, "Maybe Bobby doesn't like to be caught on camera." When he said the name "Bobby," the light turned on and then off. And I CAUGHT IT ON CAMERA. (The video continues for about another minute after that, but nothing else happens.)</div>
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<b>WATCH IT HERE: </b></div>
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screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-45989554685107428792013-08-07T15:58:00.002-04:002013-09-22T16:16:57.557-04:00In The Still Of The Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been four days now since our last paranormal investigation. Surprisingly, The Hubs and I both slept well after all of the ghost hunting gear was packed up and taken away. Unlike times past, there was no surge in activity following the investigation. Emphasis on the word "was." Because holy mother of.....okay. What I'm about to tell you is freaky. Like, freaky as shit. However, we (at this point) have no intention of leaving our home. Your insistence that we do so is futile. So don't bother.<br />
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Last night, we had all four boys overnight for the first time since the investigation. The three younger boys slept upstairs, while The Teenager camped out on the couch in the living room. At about 2 am, I was awoken by the sound of someone running around the house. I got up to find The Teenager not sleep-walking, but sleep-running. He was running in circles through the living room and middle room, his eyes closed, still completely asleep. I gently took his arm, pulled him into my room, and got him to sit down on the bed. I asked him what he was doing, and he began mumbling, eyes still closed, about his brother taking some "brown thing" from him, and some other nonsensical stuff. I walked him back out to the couch, tucked him back in, and went back to bed.<br />
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Anyone who knows our family personally knows why this was beyond frightening to me. The Teenager has epilepsy, and is prone to night-time seizures. He also has a history of sleep-walking, although he hasn't had an episode in years. As I tried to go back to sleep, my heart was pounding. Did he have a seizure or seizure-like event? Or was Bobby messing with him? I was actually almost hoping there was a supernatural element involved. Epilepsy is much more frightening. Needless to say, I couldn't sleep. I was too worried about my boy. I took my pillow out to the couch and slept beside him (thank goodness for our ginormous sectional sofa).<br />
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When the little boys got up this morning, E-Man, my 10-year-old, had some pretty big bags under his eyes. Apparently, CJ, the 9-year-old, sat up in bed around 2 am (the same time Austin started running through the house in his sleep, which the little boys knew nothing about because they were upstairs) and, still asleep, started banging his head into his pillow repeatedly, waking E-Man up. He said after a few minutes, CJ stopped slamming his face into his pillow and laid back down.<br />
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So, at the exact same time, two of my children got up out of bed, still asleep, and one of them began running around the house like a madman while the other proceeded to bang his head into his pillow. Then, after a few minutes, they both stopped and went back to sleep. And in the light of day, neither of them have any recollection of this happening. At all. So...there's that. And I just.....I don't know.screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-19453690155399021132013-08-07T14:58:00.000-04:002013-09-22T16:15:43.418-04:00Who Ya Gonna Call?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I'm not a quitter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I set my mind to something, I accomplish it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or, at the very least, I exhaust every possible avenue and give up only when I’m satisfied that I did absolutely everything in my power to reach my goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Case in point: it’s been nearly a year since our first paranormal investigation, and I refuse to give up on my quest for answers as to why our house is not only haunted, but “super haunted.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result, our house was investigated last weekend for the third time, by our fourth different paranormal investigation crew.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here’s something I’ve learned about paranormal investigation companies/teams/crews (or whatever you want to call them) since delving into this world of the supernatural: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have to find the one that’s right for you and your situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thanks to the emergence of shows like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ghost Hunters</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ghost Adventures</i>, there has been a boom in the number of organizations that offer paranormal investigation services as of late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Michigan alone, there are currently over 100 paranormal investigation firms, as opposed to less than ten just a decade and a half ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all have different philosophies, business practices, equipment, ways of doing things, rules, and areas of expertise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(One thing they all have in common, however, is that their services are free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If anyone ever tries to charge you for a paranormal investigation, run the other way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The good guys do this work for free, because it’s what they love to do.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So how do you find the group that’s right for you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You ask questions.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After two paranormal investigations by three different groups in less than a year, I know what I want. I’m not looking to establish “if” my house is haunted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to know why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Hubs and I also want to be included in the investigation process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re tired of just sitting on the couch in silence and darkness while the ghost hunters (and ghosts) have all the fun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I started combing through the overabundant listings for paranormal investigators in Michigan until I found one with an emphasis on historical research.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><a href="http://www.grimstone-inc.com/" target="_blank">Grimstone Inc.</a> to the rescue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Founded in 1999, they have been investigating the supernatural since before such a thing was cool, and have a historical research department.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Jackpot!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I emailed them and heard back within 24 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told them our story and our history of past investigations, and expressed our desire to focus on the history of the house and to be a part of the investigation process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They told me they could work with that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few days later, I had a long phone conversation with the lead investigator, Kara, about everything having to do with our house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was familiar with our case, having heard the radio broadcast of the investigation last fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She and her team were excited to come out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we were excited to have them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On Saturday, August 3<sup>rd</sup>, with the kids and dogs all gone and the house clean and cobweb free (they were videotaping, after all), a caravan of paranormal investigators arrived at The C Fam estate with case upon case of equipment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They took a tour, conducted interviews, took “baseline readings” and set up their surveillance cameras (nine, in total) and other equipment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By about 9:00, it was lights out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the first hour or so, they investigated on their own while The Hubs, our two houseguests and I watched the surveillance monitor with one or two members of the team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After that, they invited us to participate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got to join them in different parts of the house during EVP sessions, and learned about the equipment and what the different things do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Grimstone team was professional yet fun, and it was almost like spending an evening with friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the evidence review process is a tedious one, we’ve been in regular contact with Grimstone since the investigation, and have been given a timeline on when we can expect information.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Color me impressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think we’ve found “our guys.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m sure what you’re more interested in than how much we like our new paranormal investigation crew is exactly what happened during their investigation, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Overall, it was a pretty quiet night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I actually fell asleep at one point towards the end of the investigation because, well, it was late and I’m old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there were a few moments.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first real “wow” thing that happened came early in the evening, when I was watching the surveillance monitors with Grimstone founder Chris Bailey, a tall, ruggedly good looking fella (that’s what you told me to say, right, Chris?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He informed me that we have a very “unique” property.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He explained that normally, an EMF detector will pick up a high-level reading if there is a spirit present, or sometimes if there is electrical wiring that isn’t properly shielded, but it’s usually in a very concentrated area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it turns out, our ENTIRE PROPERTY is one gigantic EMF field, from the road to the tree line at the way back of the back yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The house, the yard, the marsh, all of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s highly unusual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chris did say that it’s quite possible that the EMF field is man-made, but that he can’t for the life of him figure out what would be emitting one quite that big.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Strange, no?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Later in the evening, I found myself cooped up in the bathroom with Chris, Kara, and my dear friend Marina (who is terrified of my bathroom, btw) for an EVP session.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point, while Kara was introducing herself to whoever might be in there with us, we all heard a very distinct child’s voice say “Hi.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were unable to get whoever or whatever it was to say it again, but I’m interested to see what the EVP recording turns up.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A reminder to anyone needing to tinkle- shut the shower curtain to cover the video camera, or everybody will see your business while you do your business!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After our bathroom investigation, we headed upstairs to the younger boys’ bedroom for another EVP session.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After asking a few questions, Kara requested that anyone present in the room with us “finish the clap,” and then proceeded to clap out “Skunk-in-the-barnyard” (or “Shave and a haircut,” whichever you prefer), leaving only the last two lines unfinished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone who’s seen <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Conjuring</i> or even just a preview for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Conjuring</i> knows how terrifying the thought of a ghost clapping out twice in the dark is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swear on all things holy, if it would’ve happened, I would have bolted from that house and never returned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>True story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While a couple of investigators were out back by the chicken coop, they heard a large branch snap just inches from them, followed by a footstep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They took off running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Which is sort of funny, since the backs of their shirts say: “Paranormal Investigator- If you see me running, try to keep up!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, that very easily could have caused by the wildlife that roams our property at night, but it will be interesting to see what the evidence from that time frame reveals.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">All in all, our night with the folks from Grimstone Inc. was awesome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an interesting and very positive experience for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re feeling hopeful about getting some answers for the first time since this all began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I even slept well after the investigation was over, and that’s pretty much unheard of.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now we wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Care to wait with us?</span></div>
screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-657567910373410782013-07-28T21:22:00.001-04:002013-07-28T21:22:07.579-04:00Housework<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7LKnfDMUepyZ5_KiBwiRhN0dqbHHZS2TNbzGNoKCs80tuZhsrDCgAeT1KNCMbG_dfTPZzPyLORa58XQub-aWXXEwEdEJr9NZ7hn8FzNrjB7lhCDP-AafFhbmj8Avqn3PMB8oyRE7pUVyj/s1600/th.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7LKnfDMUepyZ5_KiBwiRhN0dqbHHZS2TNbzGNoKCs80tuZhsrDCgAeT1KNCMbG_dfTPZzPyLORa58XQub-aWXXEwEdEJr9NZ7hn8FzNrjB7lhCDP-AafFhbmj8Avqn3PMB8oyRE7pUVyj/s1600/th.jpg" /></a></div>
Last week, I had a little helper while I was doing housework, and I'm not talking about one of my four boys. The Hubs and I were home alone, and I was inside cleaning while he was outside doing yard work.<br />
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While cleaning in the living room, I found one of the throw pillows from the couch on the floor behind the couch. I picked it up, fluffed it, put it back in its spot, and then turned around to close a window because it was getting cold out. (Yes, in July.) When I turned back around, the pillow was back on the floor. I stood there staring at it for a few seconds, thinking I was crazy. Then I picked it up and put it back on the couch.<br />
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A little while later, I put some towels away in the closet outside the bathroom. The closet door is a sliding door, and I remember having to fight with it to get it closed, because the towels were in the way of the track. But I got it closed, and went into the bathroom to put the washcloths away. When I came back out, the closet door was wide open again. (Being that it's a sliding door, it can't open itself.) I took a deep breath, rubbed out the goosebumps, and moved along.<br />
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That night, I was in the bathroom doing my nightly face washing/teeth brushing routine while listening to the sound of my husband doing the dishes in the kitchen. (The bathroom and kitchen share a wall.) I heard him turning the sink on and off, washing the dishes, and opening and closing cupboards to put them away. When I was done in the bathroom, I went out into the kitchen to see if I could help him. The light in the kitchen was off, the sink was full of dirty dishes, and my husband was nowhere to be seen. I found him in bed, fast asleep. (Dear Ghosty Friends: If you're going to do the dishes, could you please start doing the actual dishes instead of your parallel dimension ones?)<br />
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Yesterday, our house helper was in a different kind of mood. The Hubs walked into the bathroom to find half of the shower curtain ripped off the hooks. He then went into our bedroom and found our change jar, which sits at the back of a built-in book shelf (so, literally no way for it to get bumped or knocked off the shelf, it essentially sits inside a wall) on the floor, the change spilled all over the place.<br />
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It's just still so funny to me, how we can go a couple weeks without anything significant happening, and then we seem to have an outbreak of activity, where crazy things happen almost daily. I wonder why that is....<br />
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<br />screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2618861670319728558.post-11921091568319470042013-07-23T16:36:00.000-04:002013-07-23T16:36:30.575-04:00The Conjuring ComparisonSo. I did it. I went and saw <em>The Conjuring</em>. And while it was probably the scariest movie I've seen in the history of forever, it did not remind me of my house. Well. Not too much. <br />
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Without giving away too much to those who haven't seen the movie, I'll just say this: if anything even as remotely awful as what happened in that house on their first night ever happened in our house, we'd be gone without another thought. Like for real. Lucky for us, most of the similarities between the Perron family's ghost story and ours are on the surface, right down to the green front door.<br />
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In the movie, the Perron family moved out to the country, into an old white farmhouse with green trim, with their five girls.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6bp-vDaMpWehIPwS4sRFXMzY7AZZ9Pj5b6cxQTnz4tqhiiJvwCBUjXXPM0M_MjYKhF_quyzxl3DZRGupVnitosj3jLAfbY8xYnxRZPHyMqIFMv3_9LAA-jfGzLdYX0N46AYny1_gelCV/s1600/HOUSES.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img bba="true" border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6bp-vDaMpWehIPwS4sRFXMzY7AZZ9Pj5b6cxQTnz4tqhiiJvwCBUjXXPM0M_MjYKhF_quyzxl3DZRGupVnitosj3jLAfbY8xYnxRZPHyMqIFMv3_9LAA-jfGzLdYX0N46AYny1_gelCV/s320/HOUSES.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haunted movie farmhouse on the left, our real farmhouse on the right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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In real life, the C family moved out to the country (but not too far, we're still less than two minutes from civilization), into an old white farmhouse with green trim, with our four boys.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7mmqLkPZhC9Vl6688HxXV7ZrNw4RLeiEKxsnKeTyM_J6VbHdgQM4Egz_wgL1qnXRYD0TBEpgDrJGoax4UXf3JuVCVekWWyKR7JyZKdg8svBbcxAPo1p09CjvZZ7lmyKwqZMq3UQDhYyE/s1600/FAMILIES.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img bba="true" border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7mmqLkPZhC9Vl6688HxXV7ZrNw4RLeiEKxsnKeTyM_J6VbHdgQM4Egz_wgL1qnXRYD0TBEpgDrJGoax4UXf3JuVCVekWWyKR7JyZKdg8svBbcxAPo1p09CjvZZ7lmyKwqZMq3UQDhYyE/s320/FAMILIES.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haunted movie family on the left, haunted C Family on the right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Their house had a huge yard and a bunch of creepy, old trees. Our house has a huge yard and a bunch of creepy, old trees. They had a pond at the edge of their yard. We have a marsh at the end of ours.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUC-08nOBUQS6EkVhTJQKmB83j3QaX9jW4q7KPw0rhQTvIg7RughzSmAn-jv_zzp9Dj1qmVPIuYW8u9u7x-P_7y4dxJEohnp7NUX-IAqg-Hg3seRyN67bKX1DFUgPmxQvEzCwsLS6klcs/s1600/YARDS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img bba="true" border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUC-08nOBUQS6EkVhTJQKmB83j3QaX9jW4q7KPw0rhQTvIg7RughzSmAn-jv_zzp9Dj1qmVPIuYW8u9u7x-P_7y4dxJEohnp7NUX-IAqg-Hg3seRyN67bKX1DFUgPmxQvEzCwsLS6klcs/s320/YARDS.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haunted movie yard on the left, our real haunted yard on the right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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They had a creepy basement/cellar full of lots of weird stuff. We have a creepy basement/cellar with an incinerator and a weird, arched door that leads to nowhere. Their basement is haunted. Our basement is haunted. They had a little boy ghost, "Rory." We have a little boy ghost, "Bobby."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUXWTy7V1w9w4ZOTgcTEOBIaQMhUapZTOsbI6bUVDwjY43PaQ4TeSpK5vloX5B3LH1G-xParBbx2He1t6w-3qBO2jHdWCfd9I-y7pLU3PEi1TTgDPs0zumFlu2CDbZdhqrH8pMxByZnDM/s1600/BASEMENTS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img bba="true" border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUXWTy7V1w9w4ZOTgcTEOBIaQMhUapZTOsbI6bUVDwjY43PaQ4TeSpK5vloX5B3LH1G-xParBbx2He1t6w-3qBO2jHdWCfd9I-y7pLU3PEi1TTgDPs0zumFlu2CDbZdhqrH8pMxByZnDM/s320/BASEMENTS.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creepy movie basement on the left, creepy C Fam basement on the right.</td></tr>
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Oh, and did I tell you? <em>The Conjuring</em> is based on a TRUE STORY. How true? I've posted a couple of links to stories on that exact topic so that you don't have to go hunting for the info yourselves.<br />
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Here is an excellent breakdown of fact vs. fiction on all things related to <em>The Conjuring</em>: <a href="http://www.chasingthefrog.com/reelfaces/conjuring.php" target="_blank"><em>The Conjuring</em> True Story</a>.<br />
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Here is a letter that the eldest Perron girl, Andrea Perron, wrote to a website that posted a review on the movie. In her letter, she says: <em>"There are liberties taken and a few discrepancies but overall, it is what it claims to be — based on a true story, believe it or not."</em> Read the full letter HERE: <a href="http://www.horror-movies.ca/exclusive-conjuring-true-story/" target="_blank">Family Members Reveal <em>The Conjuring</em> True Story</a>.<br />
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Now that the movie is #1 at the box office, USA Today decided to do a little digging into how true the story is. Read their story here: <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/story/life/movies/2013/07/22/conjuring-true-story-perron/2457209/" target="_blank">USA Today- True Story Behind <em>The Conjuring</em></a>.<br />
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As an author, I was so excited to learn that one of the family members, Andrea Perron, wrote a series of books about her family's experience in their haunted farmhouse. Upon getting home after the movie, I logged into my Amazon account ready to purchase at least the first of the three books. But the reviews stopped me. They are AWFUL. The book is expensive (over $20 for a paperback and almost $10 for the Kindle version), long (528 pages), and I found myself struggling to even read all the way through the synopsis. <em>House of Darkness, House of Light</em> is definitely not for me. But here's the link if you want to check it out: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/House-Darkness-Light-Story-Volume/dp/1456747592" target="_blank"><em>House of Darkness, House of Light</em> by Andrea Perron</a>. Just please, before you buy, read the reviews.<br />
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Bottom line: the movie is awesome and at least somewhat true. But not necessarily an accurate depiction of what goes on in haunted houses. And definitely nothing like what goes on in ours.screamqueen517http://www.blogger.com/profile/11985119749673845752noreply@blogger.com2