Your True Tales
March 2007 - Page 7
Father's Final Visit
by Keith Frink
On a cold wintry night in 1959, my mother encountered the ghost of her dead husband. He was the father of my two sisters and older brother. At the time, the children were four, two and one year old. Their father's name was George. In a tragic mishap, two weeks before my mother's ghostly encounter, George, who was in his late twenties, had been run over by a train where he was employed as a brakeman. On the day he died, he was sitting on a flat bed car as it went around a corner. Somehow he lost his balance and fell. Unfortunately, he somehow slid directly underneath it and was sliced into three pieces. Prior to his railroad experience George had served in the Army.
My mother moved to Ft. Madison, Iowa with her three young children after the death of George to live with my grandmother. On a snowy night in January, shortly after the death, my mother, grandmother, and a mutual friend of theirs were gathered around the fireplace in my grandmother's house as the children slept upstairs. Suddenly, they heard heavy footsteps, which sounded like boots walking directly above them across the wooden floor. They stared at the ceiling in shock. The booming steps made their way from one end of the room to the other. The footsteps halted at the point where the children lay. My mother yelled something to the effect for the others to call the police if she wasn't back in five minutes and bounded up the stairs.
As she reached the top of the stairs she turned the hallway light on illuminating the room. All was quiet. The children seemed to be resting peacefully. She listened intently to the rise and fall of their breath. They were fine. She stood by each one to see if they were giggling or somehow had faked the noise but they were sound asleep. My mother has always wondered if their father had come to pay them a final visit.
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