Tuesday, April 19, 2016
I do NOT believe in ghosts, but naturally, I love the word for the belief in ghosts: EIDOLISM.
A woman, who was a stranger to me, but has since become a friend, learned that my grandparents had owned the house where she now lives. My grandmother died when I was thirteen years old and I have not been in the house since.
When this new friend learned of my family's connection to her home, she said, "I want to ask you something." I immediately knew what she wanted to ask and I answered her by asking, "The little girl with the long, blonde curls wearing a white dress?" The color literally drained from her face as she asked, tremulously, "Yes, did you see her?" I told her, "No, I never saw her, but as you walk in the front door of the house, on the left side of the foyer was my grandmother's parlor, and on the right side, was her living room; did you see the little girl in the parlor?" Once again, she answered with a trembling voice, "Yes!" I continued, "She died in the influenza epidemic of 1918; she was three years old; she was laid out in the parlor on a bier which also held my grandfather's coffin when he died."
She continued with other questions about the house, most of which I could answer but I told her I'd have to ask my older brothers about some of the queries. The conversation always circled back to the "little girl"; I told her that the little girl was born in 1915, my father was born in 1902, and his other siblings were born in 1904, 1906, and 1908. Can you imagine my grandmother's shock to have a baby at age 49? My father would tell how she was confined to bed with what she termed "sick headaches"; she probably suffered from postpartum depression and migraines.
When Granny was in her eighties, my father would do her shopping for her and I remember that her bottle of "medicine" was actually a fifth of whiskey wrapped in a brown paper bag. I still have vivid memories of when I would stay with Granny; especially the eerie reflection and flickering of the gas lights because there was no electricity in the house. I recall the beautiful globes covering the lights and how I would turn them up to maximum capacity, much to Granny's consternation as she thought it was "wasteful" to have all that gas burning. My brothers and I would slide down the banister and my brothers had been smoking in the barn which caused a fire which destroyed the barn.
I have several friends and members of Gerald's family who believe in ghosts.
At one of our Halloween parties, one of the contests was to tell the best ghost story. A niece told about "Crybaby Bridge" and how one can hear the ghost of a baby crying. Our niece Robin wanted to go to Crybaby Bridge; after the party, I said, "Let's go!", although it was after 1:00 AM at the time. Robin and her two daughters Aron and Angie jumped in the car and we headed to Ghormley Road. Soon a Sheriff's Deputy pulled up behind us with lights flashing. The Deputy came to my car with his flashlight and said, "Tell me you're NOT looking for Crybaby Bridge!" We had to admit that we were. He told us to leave, because the bridge had been torn down.
The same night I drove into a cemetery and showed them strange tombstones: one of a cut-off tree which was a baby's tombstone.
I learned that we have a Paranormal Society in Fayette County. My friend Mona Lisa has it on her FB page as does our grand-niece Angie. They want to have my house investigated for ghosts.
I took my friend Bobbi to The General Denver Hotel for her birthday celebration. The owner of the hotel gave a presentation about the hotel and its ghosts. Bobbi said that she wanted to go to stay overnight in one of the rooms that's supposedly haunted.
Gerald doesn't participate in such goings-on, and although I do NOT believe in ghosts, I'm "up" for anything!