I ain’t Afraid of no Ghosts!

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October is my favorite month of the year. It brings us cooler, crisp air, high school and college football, homecoming celebrations, fall color tours, bonfires, pumpkin treats, Halloween and … haunted houses.

I believe that I may live in one.

My late husband and I bought our house eleven years ago. It is a historic home, nearly 162 years old. It is located just a few blocks southwest of Dibbleville in Fenton, which has often been reported to be one of the city’s most haunted neighborhoods.

Shortly after we moved in, strange things began to happen.

Our brand new dishwasher would turn on by itself. It was situated in such a way that it would have been impossible to “butt bump” the “on” button. We had the electrical and plumbing checked before moving in, but we checked it again. No problems. I could only surmise that some lady from the 1800s was intrigued by my machine that cleaned the dishes. I talked to her (in thin air) and asked, “Could you at least put the soap in first?” It happened a couple more times and then stopped.

One morning, my husband left early for work and I had decided to sleep in for a bit. About ten minutes later, I felt someone heavy get into the bed next to me. I shot straight up and started yelling at my husband for scaring me half to death. There was no one there. He called a minute or two later to let me know he had just arrived at work.

On another day, I had brought two boxes up from the basement and had opened the first to start looking for something. Just then, a heavy glass vase that was sitting on our rolltop desk went flying across the room, nearly hitting me in the head. I continued my search through the box … and it happened again! A second heavy vase flew across the room, just missing my head. I shouted (into thin air) “KNOCK IT OFF!” It stopped.

We had a little dog that my husband had taught to stand on up his hind legs, raise his front paws and twirl around, and he used to make him do the “dance” for treats. On two occasions, I watched the dog dancing in a corner of the living room. There was no one in the room with him (and no treats.)

In the years that followed, there were no further incidents other than a few guests saying they felt something was “off” while in certain parts of our home. I believe that if there are spirits here, we have learned to live – I mean co-exist – together peacefully.

Friends have suggested we invite ghost hunters to check our house. The answer was and still is, “No. A confirmation of anything paranormal would be too scary!”

 

 

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