Your True Tales
November 2005 – Page 23

The Fix-It Ghost
by Kathie

Six years ago, my husband died in my home. He was very good at fixing things. In fact, in all the time I knew him, there was never one thing he couldn't fix. As the story goes, I met a new man and he was living at our home. The strange things that were occurring continued to become more and more frequent. Someone told me to go to my late husband's grave and tell him he could rest now that I have another man to take care of his daughter and me.

So I did. As I was there at his grave, I expressed how much I missed him and his ability to fix things around the house for me (my new husband tries to fix things, but he doesn't have the blessings that my late husband had). I mentioned that my toilet had been broken for months now and I was so tired of sticking my hand in the tank to flush it. That's it. That's all I said about the toilet.

Later that night, my (new) husband and I went down about 3 a.m. to get a snack (for him) and for me to use the potty. I don't know why I did, but when I finished my business, I reached around without thinking and I flushed the toilet by the handle and it flushed! When I realized that the handle was working, I turned on the light to see a bunch of rubber bands tied in extreme knots. The rubber bands were tied to the bulb and the handle which enabled the toilet to flush! I immediately thought that my (new) husband had fixed the toilet. So I went in to the kitchen and said, "Thank you for fixing the toilet." With that he turned around and said, "I didn't fix the toilet. What are you talking about?" And his face was white.

Just then a rush of frigid cold air traveled through me, making the hair on my arms and back of my neck stand on end. I actually got goose bumps! So he went into the bathroom and looked at the rubber band knots. He said, "I don't even know how to tie those types of knots! I did not do this." My husband being a fisherman, I thought they were the knots you tie to put the hook on the line. I found out later that they were sailor's knots, which my late husband's father (he was a sailor) had taught him how to tie.

Needless to say, I now believe in ghosts.

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