July 2004 Page 31
by Emily Anderson
One of the only significant memories from when I was three years old was when I saw my grandfather. He had been dead for a long time before I was born (maybe 10 years; I'm not exactly sure), so it was pretty strange.
My sister and I had been playing house and we went into his old car in the garage. Nobody ever goes into that car because it was one of those old cars from the '50s and it didn't work right. My sister and I were in the front seats of the car and we both got a really weird feeling, so we decided to leave. I had always been scared of that car, and I still am petrified of it. My sister went inside the house because it was lunch time, but I couldn't move.
I just sat there looking at the strange man standing by the garbage cans. He was talking to me, but I don't know what he said. He didn't have a definite voice, but he kind of spoke in feelings. I was terrified. My grandmother was standing in the doorway to the kitchen screaming for me to come inside (she couldn't see him). She was getting freaked out because I was screaming and crying on the floor in the middle of the garage. I was screaming, "MAKE THE MAN GO AWAY! HE'S SCARING ME! MAKE HIM GO AWAY!!" over and over again. Of course, if I was in my grandmother's position I would have been pretty freaked too. She eventually got herself together and dragged me into the house while the man stood there frowning apologetically.
She went and got the family picture album and showed me my grandfather. She asked if that was the man I saw. And it was.
It turns out that it was a common thing in the family to see him. My cousin had seen him when she almost died in the hospital. My other cousin saw him all the way up in Minnesota (we live in Georgia).
He was a pilot when he was alive, and after he died, his ex-co-pilots saw him appear in their planes giving them instructions when they were in a bad storm.
The car was moved to the
basement a few years later, and my cousin would take me down there for thrills.
On more than a few occasions, we got locked inside, or touched arms with an
unseen person. I think that my grandfather was a very good person and stays
in his old house to be with my grandmother. We've all kind of gotten used to
him being in my grandmother's house and we all accept him. Nothing bad has ever
happened because of him, but it always is a bit freaky to see somebody who has
been dead for years.
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