Your
True Tales
September 2004 – Page
28
The
Hippie Haunting
by Anonymous
A good friend of mine and I rented a house in Germantown, Pennsylvania. It's a brick home and has three floors and is tightly squeezed between two other houses that are almost in a townhouse configuration. It needed a lot of work, but it was actually a nice place, especially for the price which was relatively cheap.
After we moved in, myself having most of the third floor, my friend and I began to notice weird drafts, such as on one of the staircases. I had a throw rug tapestry on the wall at the top landing and it would blow like there was a gust of wind, but whenever he or I would go to investigate, it would stop blowing like as if it had never been blowing at all. I felt around and there was no draft coming up anywhere and there were no vents anywhere around the stairs.
We saw this also with curtains; there was a room that had some curtains in them that sort of came with the place. One night as I came in late, I smelled this stink that was like burning chicken in grease or something, but really foul smelling. I first checked the kitchen and all the lights were out and then traced the smell to the upstairs into a small den area with all the lights on. As I came around the corner, I could see the curtains blowing with the window closed. And then they just stopped as I came in. I was puzzled and slowly went over to check the window and it was shut tight.
We also had light bulbs pop on regular occasion. Light bulbs in some rooms would last less than a week.
Here's where the hippie thing comes from. A women friend of mine from where I work in graphics design, came over one night late after calling me and came to the front door ringing my buzzer. I was in the kitchen and went to go to the front door. I said hello and we greeted each other when she looked at me and said, "I had no idea you had company. Am I bothering you?" I laughed and said, "What are you talking about, company?"
She said, "The people sitting in your living room." I said to her, "There's nobody sitting in my living room. I'm all alone."
I walked in with her to show her my living room was empty, thinking maybe she saw a coat over a sofa or something. As soon as I slid back the door to the living room, suddenly another light bulb popped causing a big flash. I tried to stay calm and she was freaked, asking whether that happens a lot and of course I blamed it on faulty wiring.
We went on upstairs and she then told me what she thought she saw. She said there were a group of people milling about in the living room with long hair and beards like hippies. And one woman in a half shirt sort of halter top was walking slowly past the window, from what she could see from behind the curtains.
Now here's the weird stuff. I and my roommate find little tabs of what look like perforated LSD paper blotter in weird places around the house, once in a window sill (of which I asked him about and he didn't know) then in the master bedroom bathroom on top of a bar of soap. Then once in the kitchen window on top of a breadbox. Then one time weeks later in the refrigerator freezer. They have little designs on them, and one has a clear Walt Disney looking Mad Hatter character on it in psychedelic purple and green. These are not ours, and very few of our friends do anything but drink and maybe smoke cigarettes. I am certainly not a drug fiend, although I was for a while in college, and neither is my house mate.
We have had many other oddities, especially with things missing and once even a Pleather ottoman from the TV room found at the top of a staircase one morning. We lose glasses and beer mugs a lot, and even found three shot glasses in a basement window ledge behind the hvac tubes hidden. The basement is pretty raw and isn't like a party place or anything.
We also have one case of curtains being tied in knots. Another time I woke up and went downstairs to get something and found the kitchen lights on and the sink going like someone was washing dishes but there was nobody there. My roommate was asleep and so was I until I got up.
There are actually lots of these little happenings to report, but the price is right, so who cares. Those are my hippie ghosts, I say when we have another weird incident.
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