Your True Tales
November 2006 - Page 10
Ghost a Part of the Family
by Greg
In 1996 I was hired as a youth worker at what was soon to be a group home for severely troubled male adolescents, but before we could take in any of these kids we had to do some minor remodeling to the old farm house in central Wisconsin. It began as we were setting up the bedrooms and had taken a coffee and smoke break on the front porch. When we went back up to the bedrooms, all of the linens we had just placed on the beds were scattered all around the bedrooms.
A few days after this, I ran into an elderly man who had lived on the neighboring farm all his life, and in the midst of casual conversation he stated that the previous family who had lived where the group home now was had lost a teenage daughter in a tragic farming accident. I didn't immediately make the association of the linen incident and a ghost, but it all became apparent to me in the months to come.
As we continued to prepare the house, odd events continued to plague us, including mysteriously locking doors and disappearing items, but two events completely eclipsed all of the others for me.
The first major event happened on the second or third night after our first two residents arrived. We were sitting in lawn chairs out in the barnyard as I tried to share what little I knew about constellations on a warm summer night. At one point, one of the kids tapped my shoulder and asked who was in the house. I said no one should be there as the three of us were the only ones out there, the doors locked automatically, and I had the only keys in my pocket. When I turned to look at the house, it was plainly visible to us that a silhouette of a woman in a dress was holding open the draperies and looking out, possibly at us, from the stairwell window. We sat in stunned silence for several minutes before she simply walked away from the window. At the kids insistence I searched the house top to bottom and found nothing.
The second event was when I watched a vaporous apparition of what I can only assume to be the same girl kiss the forehead of our most troubled kid as he slept on the couch. In each of these cases, and numerous others, we were obviously sober and never felt particularly afraid of the phenomenon.
In a strange way, she became like a part of our surrogate family atmosphere and was commonly discussed. Nearly everybody had an encounter of some kind with her, and none were more harmful than simple mischief.
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