Paranormal Story Archives
February 2001
– Page 12
Son Sees
Dead Guys
by Dan B.
This started about five years ago when my husband and I bought our first home. It was built in 1898. When we moved in, my son was three years old and not to much of a talker. About two to three months after we moved in, my son was having problems sleeping. We assumed that it was the move and accommodated him. Weeks go by and he still can't sleep in his room because there were "dead guys." Well, we had started to get firm and say, "There are no dead guys. You just miss your old room." One day he tells me that the one guy swears a lot, but the other guy is okay. Another time, I'm tucking him in and he tells me that the okay guy is standing in the doorway - why couldn't I see him? Yes, the hairs on my arm raise, but I dismiss this and change my tactic with my son. If there are ghosts, they haven't hurt you or us, and if they were going to, they would have by now.
Two months since we moved in and it is Christmas Eve and we are driving to the home of some friends. My son is in the back seat and he brings up the subject of the "dead guys" again, and I am again saying that if the "dead guys haven't hurt us by now...." So then he says, "Well, actually, they've passed over." Okay, maybe that may not be strange to some, but the phrase "passed over" coming from my three-year-old, who never strayed from watching Barney or Cailou, and certainly never had a discussion with us about the difference with dead, dying or passing over (no one had died during his existence which needed explaining). I moved him into another room.
Spring comes and I am outside at the clothes line and my neighbor is at hers. Wanting to talk to her about the old barn at the back of our property, I said to her, "Has anyone said anything to you about..." I only get that far and she jumps in and says, "About your house?" How can I resist. Okay, I said, what about the house? She proceeds to tell me that there have been two people die in this house. #1: The old farmer who had built the house died of a heart attack in bedroom (the one my son was in). #2: There was a man who had committed suicide in the basement. Then she goes on to tell me that anyone who has lived in this house has been spooked by ghosts, so badly that one man had a heart attack and had to leave in an ambulance and never came back.
Now comes summer, August, and it is the hottest day and I'm outside. I can smell fire. Hot fire like something is burning, but I cannot see smoke. This goes on for days, but I cannot see the fire. My friend comes over and we are outside talking and even she smelled it. Finally, my friend and I are sitting in my kitchen having a coffee and the cupboard door shuts by itself. Now lots of things go on for three more years, still smell smoke outside and I've had two more children. My second son at age two tells me there is a guy in his room (yep, same room my first son had had). Then another night, my husband is putting my third son to bed and the one-year-old points to the wall and says, "Guy, guy." So now I've had enough. There have been way too many things going on in this house to ignore.
Through searching and searching, I locate one of the girls who was raised here. Her father is the one who built this house and had died in the bedroom. She and her sister came over to our house and I am telling her about everything that had been happening. I brought up the smell of smoke always in August. She just looks then she looks at her sister and says that they had a massive fire (some one had set it) in their two barns in August of 1930. She suggests that maybe since we had disturbed the earth where they had been, that the smell had come up from the earth. We cannot confirm the suicide death and the children have had no more sightings of him, the swearer, but I do know that old man Annett is here. He must be the okay guy. I have come to accept him as family as he seems to almost sit with the children in their rooms. The daughter had said that he adored children and was a very kind man. The daughters come by often and they feel at home as we would like it but every time they leave, they feel like their father is at the door.
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